Forever Changed
by Dark-Knight27
Summary: Set a little while after the Japan story arc: The city of Roanapur is about to be thrown into chaos. At the same time Rock and Revy come to realise something, something that may change them both forever. Rated M for possible sexual content later on.
1. Chapter 1

_I started to write a Black Lagoon fic a couple of years ago, but I don't really think it went so well, and at the time trying to write two stories was an energy killer. But I thought I'd try again, as I'm a big fan of the anime and the manga; hopefully I will stick with it this time, and hopefully people will like it. Also, I don't own Black Lagoon or any of its characters._

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><p><strong>Forever Changed<br>**

**Chapter I**

Rock could make all the guess', all the assumptions and observations, he could come up with as many theories as he wanted – to unravel and explain the events of the last sixty hours – and he would still arrive in the bleak endless void of absolutely nowhere. However, one thing was now abundantly clear to him: the city of Roanapur would not survive the night.

The sun's glow, which was usually a mesmerising sight to behold in this corner of a globe, had ceased itself three hours ago, slowly sinking down into the horizon and from the eyes of the city. Now that the shrouding black had come again, a different kind of darkness was usually stirring, ready to greet the night, to awaken and take its rightful place in the streets of this unrestrained paradise of the damned.

They called Roanapur the city of the dead; most couldn't argue with such a title, and wouldn't even think of trying. Everyone knew this; the simple undying certainty that somewhere, somehow, a bullet lay in wait, with the name of some poor soul engraved upon it, eagerly biding its time until that fated union when someone else would meet a cruel and violent end. One was more or less a walking corpse every hour of every day, even when the sun shined brightest over the city, when most of the cold hard nature of such a place held its breath. It would slumber during the day's warm and roasting light, waiting for it's awakening when the sun fell away, when it could thrive again, when the real monsters came out to play.

The evening was now long gone, and Rock sat there, silently, on the deck of the Lagoon; his knees pulled in close to his pounding chest, his arms wrapped firmly around his legs as his body rocked back and forth. He fearfully took in the unbelievable sight before him, and his ravaged brain fought for a clue – a reason – why this day had turned out the way it had. The torpedo boat sat out at sea, perhaps a mile from the city of Roanapur; it bobbed and swayed lifelessly in the ocean as the water rippled and flowed around its battered hull. Sitting alone, as if waiting for something that would never come. At this very moment in time, Rock felt nothing but a bleak well of helplessness embracing him tightly, refusing to relent despite his inward please; his prayers so far remaining unanswered.

"I have to do something," he whispered.

He'd been sitting like this for some time; hopelessly wondering what his next move should be as the agonisingly slow minutes staggered by. All the while that lump in his throat wouldn't back down – wouldn't leave him for anything – as he tried in vain to fight his roaring panic back. Rock was usually calm, or at least he'd like to believe so, but with what he was now seeing, his emotional fortitude was dead in the dust.

The city was no longer as it should have been; the lights that once glowed from its many buildings were mostly out, and there was no sign of the usual nightly activity. The city had taken on a whole new mask, and it was one of complete and total insanity. Gunshots and explosions roared through the humid air as Roanapur was lit up with something else: fire. The city was now truly a city of the dead; flames danced freely throughout, bright and bursting waves of orange, writhing and screaming, carrying upwards from too many places to count. It was as if the apocalypse had finally arrived, condemning Roanapur's cut-throat populace with a powerful vengeance.

Rock could almost feel the searing heat from where he sat, could almost taste the blood being spilled as his once reluctant home melted away from the earth. His ears caught the bursting repeated pop of gunfire throughout the city, and as he sat there – alone and unsure of what had happened – he reached into his trouser pocket, retrieving his cigarette box and clumsily grasping a smoke from inside. His fingers trembled furiously as he brought the cigarette to his lips, lighting it and taking a long drag that would do nothing to cure his anxiety. It was all he could do at this moment, as he ran through his mind, going through his options as he struggled to keep a level head. Was there anything he could do? And even if there was, could he really venture back into that hellish nightmare again? Part of him wanted to head back, the part that knew his friends were still in there, somewhere in Roanapur within the rivers of blood and fire and smoke, his friends were there. But were they still breathing, or were they now sharing the corrupt and stained dirt with countless others?

He kept his place on the deck, motionless, speechless; time froze as his wide eyes remained fixed on the war zone. It almost seemed as if there had been no build up to the events of the last day, but Rock knew that wasn't truly the case. Things had been churning and brewing for a while, raising tensions reaching the point where all that the city needed was that one small catalyst – the match to the sea of gasoline – and then everything would go up in pillars of smoke and rapture. This was exactly what had happened, what he and everyone else were unable to prevent. But Rock had no idea who was responsible. Who had thrown the match to cast such a blaze?

Now all he could do was wait, and hope that the rest of the Lagoon Company was not lost. Fresh beads of sweat formed upon the previous drying anxiety across his wrinkled forehead. Three hole hours of counting the slow minutes as they dragged on. Staying put – despite his concern for his own life – truly was the greatest torment of all.

_No!_ His brain cried out. _They're not dead. Revy's with them, and _she's_ not dead!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Three days ago…<strong>

"Rock!"

Rock's eyes snapped open when he felt a brief sting, coming from something impacting against his gut. He looked up from where he lay on the top deck of the Lagoon, seeing a can of beer rolling to and fro over his stomach. Further to the right his blurry eyes caught the angry face of his partner; the space between her eyebrows wrinkled in a way that he'd seen a thousand times over.

"Were you even listening, dumb-ass?" she said, with a cigarette burning between her lips as she sat next to him.

"Sorry, Revy," he said, reaching for the can before it could tumble off of him. "What were you saying?"

The strong wind from the boat's movement caused dark strands of hair to blow in front of her face, but Rock could still make out the impatient roll of Revy's eyes. "You falling asleep again?"

"No, no, of course not," he replied. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"So you were fuckin' ignoring me?"

_Here we go._

"I wasn't ignoring you," he spoke fast, wanting to defuse Revy's oncoming wrath. "I was thinking about what you said, that's all."

He tried not to look at Revy as he sat up, but as he opened the can and took a large gulp he couldn't help but see her in the corner of his sleepy vision, folding her arms across her chest as she regarded him with a narrow eyed stare. "Ok then; what did I just say?"

Rock's eyes only widened for a second. _Great,_ he thought._ Now what_? In truth he was still tired as hell from the night before, and had only just finished working off the hangover that plagued him for most of the morning; he must have been dozing when Revy was talking, so he didn't catch any of it. And now he was stuck with the dilemma of having to recall her words, words that he had a snowball's chance in hell of reciting.

"Err… you," he paused for a moment as she glared daggers at him, a sweat breaking out on his forehead as he fought for control of his brain, as well as his mouth. "You said that you… that you– "

"Ah save it dip-shit," Revy huffed.

"Ok, I fell asleep," he said, raising his hands in confession. "Three hours wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

He took another chilled mouthful of beer as his partner looked at him long and hard, and then after what seemed like an eternity, Rock felt some relief when he noticed the corners of her mouth curl upward. It was only slight, but it was better than nothing. "Well you will keep trying to upstage me, dumb-ass; if Dutch has to carry your drunken ass back to your apartment one more time, he might start charging you for the trouble."

Rock smiled at the thought, although the idea of his boss asking him to cough up some cash for his efforts wasn't so unrealistic, especially if he continued the way he was; the funny thing was that Revy was speaking as if she was the blinding exception to this rule, and that the booze couldn't touch her like it did him. He recalled more than once where she had collapsed from her seat at the bar – only minutes before he met the floor as well, but still. _Funny how she can't remember her own puking stumbling episodes from previous nights,_ he thought.

The breeze from the Lagoon's eager movement brushed against Rock's face, helping to him wake fully as the sun held high with its white hot brilliance, rising over the clear blue of the ocean as they were on their way home from a small collection job. The humidity of the day was held back by the speed of the torpedo boat; coupled with the beverage in his hand, Rock was grateful for the cooling experience that it brought. The moment they reached the dock however, he'd be sweating like a pig again, as was the norm with living in a place like Roanapur.

_Maybe Revy's right_, he thought. _Maybe I _should_ change my outfit? But not that Hawaiian shirt, not a chance in hell I'm putting that thing on._

He'd been wearing the same kind of – what some people might call boring, dreary – clothing for most of his adult life, and in this part of the world his mostly white and tidy wardrobe was near impossible to keep clean during working hours. The problem was he had no idea what he could change into; he guessed that he could hit the market when they got back, but he was far from optimistic about the idea. He'd have to remember not to mention it to Revy, as she'd only get on his back about the Hawaiian shirt again, and that was the last thing he wanted to deal with. It had been well over a year since he'd joined the Lagoon and entered into his new life as a pirate within the vast expanse of the criminal underworld, and Revy had never let up about the damn shirt; Rock would wonder on occasion why she seemed so pissed off about him not wearing the thing, but simply put it down to her just being herself, wanting to get her own way. What else could it be?

He was brought out of his thoughts when Revy spoke again. "You better be ready for more is all I'm saying; we've got shots to knock down after we get back."

Rock groaned. "I might skip out on tonight."

"Oh no you don't bitch," Revy said, handing him the last half of her cigarette. "We're heading over there as soon as we get the fuck back."

Rock accepted the smoke before responding. "What about Mr Chang?"

"What about him?"

"He's going to want his package first,"

Revy rolled her eyes again. "We'll take care of it on the way; after that I'm done with this shit for the day. Dutch can bark and moan all he fuckin' wants; I swear he gets more and more like a moody old geezer every day."

Rock took a slow drag of the cigarette, feeling its strong flavour waft between the walls of his mouth, poring into his throat before letting it loose into a clear white cloud from between his lips. "I'm pretty sure we've got no more jobs today anyway."

"Well then," Revy said, punching Rock lightly on the shoulder. "You've got nothing to bitch about; as soon as we deliver Chang's package, it'll be the Yellowflag, you, me, drinking your ass under the table, again."

Rock shook his head, wondering if things would ever be any different. It wasn't that he really wanted to change his nightly activities; in truth he had nothing better to do anyway. But lately something else had been on his mind, plaguing him day in and day out; he hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and if he was really lucky no one would ever know, although that didn't mean it wasn't bothering him something terrible.

"Hey… Revy?" he said. _Rock what are you doing you idiot_? He thought to himself.

"Yeah?" she half-heartedly asked as she leaned back, resting her elbows on the deck.

_Don't say a fucking word_! Rock yelled inwardly at himself. _She'll either laugh herself to death or knock your lights out._

"Oh, its nothing," he finally said.

With that, Rock looked away from her, but not quick enough that he didn't catch her frown. "Rock, what's with you today?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied. _Please Revy; don't ask me._

"Don't worry about what?" Revy sat up again, clearly angered by Rock's indecision. "Spit it out; what did you w… " She trailed off, and Rock noticed her scrutinising him, as if just realising something.

"What's wrong?" he asked, inwardly panicking that she'd seen through him.

"You're not wearing your tie." She said, the sound of shock rolling out of her in a sizable quantity.

"My tie?" he said. _Thank god, that was way too close_!

He remembered leaving that part of his so called uniform back at his apartment before heading out for the job; the truth was he'd be feeling hotter than fire from the moment he woke up and thought that just for once he'd allow some oxygen to make contact with his neck. He had to admit, it didn't help a great deal, but it was a hell of a lot better than having it fastened around his throat all day.

"My fuckin' god!" Revy exclaimed with a sparkle in her eyes, grinning from ear to ear. "Does this mean your going to finally ditch that stupid office boy look? Do you even have any clothes a man might wear?"

Rock couldn't help an embarrassed chuckle at her question. "That's a little harsh; these _are_ men's clothes."

Revy laughed. "If you say so stud."

"And I didn't say I was changing my outfit."_ Did she just call me Stud?_

"Whatever dumb-ass," Revy replied, sighing. "Whatever happened to that Hawaiian shirt I bought you? You better not have thrown it the fuck away."

"Revy… that shirt… " Rock hated this, wondering if he could go at least a week without hearing about it. "We've been over that; I can't wear that thing."

Rock knew what was coming now; anyone who had spent at least five minutes with Revy would see this on the way. He expected the usually onslaught of yelling and curses, maybe even one of her cutlass wedged between his eyes. And then he saw it, and it was so unexpected that his slowly burning cigarette fell from his lips, flying away in the wind as Revy's eyes clouded over, in a way he'd never really seen.

The Lagoon's gunslinger looked away from him. "Ah, you'd look even _more_ stupid in that thing anyway."

Rock couldn't believe the look he'd seen in her eyes before she shifted her gaze out towards the ocean. _Shit_! _Did I just hurt her feelings_? Whatever he'd done he didn't like it, and a swell of guilt filled him up at the silence of his friend, probably the closest person to him in his fast paced life of bullets and booze, of adrenaline and death. His mind now grasped for something – anything – that could turn the tables and, for a change, not make her mad at him.

"Hey Revy," when she didn't respond he continued. "Tell you what: we'll go head to head at the Yellowflag, and if you win I'll wear the shirt. What do you think?"

Revy stayed silent for the next few moments, with Rock eagerly awaiting a response; he began to worry when she didn't answer, and the seconds seemed to stretch out into a weary eternity as his friend stared ahead. His body almost turned to ice as time slowed to nothing. When she opened her mouth her voice was far lower than before, and something in it made Rock feel ten times worse. If he had a shell at this moment, he may very well have receded into it.

"I was just kidding Rock," she said without looking back at him, speaking in a drained sort of way. "You don't have to wear the dumb thing."

Rock's heart began to sink, even if he didn't truly understand what was happening. "Revy, I'm– "

In what seemed like an impossible blur of movement, Revy sprang to her feet, her expression now normal again. "I'm going to check in with Dutch. Don't fall asleep again; wouldn't want your dumb-ass to roll off the boat."

Rock's jaw could have landed in his lap as he sat there, watching as she turned and went below deck. "Revy? What the… "

She didn't respond as she swiftly disappeared from view, leaving Rock in wonder at what had just taken place. For the first time in months, Rock thought he'd actually crossed the line with her, but at the same time was monumentally taken back by the fact that a gun hadn't been pointed at his head. Whatever was going on with Revy, he knew it wasn't the usually mood swing into rage. _Was she actually upset? No, she couldn't be. _He didn't have the answers, and he was positive that he wouldn't be able to make her realise that he was sorry. But thinking about it he came back to one certainty: she did after all buy him the shirt, out of her own pocket no less, something that he'd never known her to do before.

Rock felt like a two ton shit whilst thinking about this; he and Revy had become closer as time went by, and in all truth she never really gave him a hard time anymore, on the contrary, he couldn't recall her speaking badly of him for some time. _And I had to go and mess things up._ Rock was certain that his way with people since entering Roanapur had advanced to a certain level, but he still managed, on occasion, to say the wrong thing around Revy. It wasn't just the issue with the shirt and he knew it; every now and then he simply brought something out of her that wasn't always healthy for him. He thought he would have learned by now. But still he couldn't get away from that look in her eyes, as if she were truly hurt from his comment, only to switch suddenly back to normal when he tried to talk to her. He couldn't imagine why this would have happened; it made even less sense than his continued presence in the city of the dead, and that was a scary thought.

Rock stayed out on the deck long enough to finish his beer; as soon as the can was empty he picked himself up, straightening his rumbled clothes. He decided that he'd try and smooth things over when they finished the drop-off; Revy would need time to cool off for a little while. Rock just hoped that it was long enough; he hated it when she was mad with him, now more than ever.

"Rock, get in here!" he heard Revy yell from inside the boat.

Rubbing his temple in anticipation of an ear-full from his partner, Rock headed towards the front hatch, only stopping when he caught sight of something. Looking back the way they'd come, he could just barely make out – maybe a mile back, maybe less – several small shapes, moving fast and seemingly gaining quit quickly. A faint panic injected into him at the sight, forcing him to move without looking back.

"Dutch!" Rock yelled as he speedily descended the ladder into the Lagoon.

Within a few nerve-rattling seconds Rock had made it inside the boat and was stumbling into the bridge; Dutch didn't look back from his seat at the controls, and Revy was standing next to him, her arms folded as she regarded Rock with serious impatience.

"Dutch," Rock said. "We've got trouble."

"The boats heading after us?" Dutch responded, as calmly as ever. "Yeah, Benny picked them up a couple of minutes ago."

"Why do you think I just called you, dummy?" Revy said, attaching a com-like to her ear.

Rock ignored her remark. "So what are we going to do?"

"Well if they ain't friendly then my cutlass' will indulge them," Revy said, grinning a feral grin. "Halleluiah, I was hoping for some action after this boring fuckin' job."

Dutch was mostly hidden from view by the back of his seat; a long trail of cigarette smoke swirled upward from the other side of the chair as the large man called out. "Benny boy, talk to me."

"The rate they're gaining, they'll be on us in two more minutes, Dutch." The voice of the Lagoon's computer wizard came over the ship's com-system loud and clear.

Rock heard Dutch blow smoke from his mouth again. "Just when it was looking to be an easy day. Revy– "

"Got it," she cut him off before heading towards the door, giving Rock a brief grin as her obviously excitement at the possible fight to come lit her eyes up like two candles, maniacally flickering. "It's gonna get bumpy Rocky, so try not to loose your breakfast."

"I didn't have any breakfast."

"You know what I mean, jack-ass."

Rock groaned. "Revy; you know this isn't my thing."

Revy stopped as she reached the door, regarded him with a strange boredom in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm reminded repeatedly. But don't worry; if you don't wet your pants I might buy you an ice cream when we're done. " And then she was out of sight, the sound of her chuckles carrying back to his ears alarmingly well.

Rock briefly thought back to his first brush with death with the Lagoon Company; he'd been scared witless – more scared than he could ever remember or even imagine – during that first shootout at the Yellowflag from that mercenary group Extra Order. How things had changed, he thought. It wasn't as if he was now this fearless person, but after so many near misses, he had grown somewhat used to their routine death matches with whatever killing machine came next, and as much as Revy might argue otherwise, Rock liked to think that he had learned to keep his cool quite well.

"There a problem, Rock?" he heard Dutch say.

Rock moved to the side of the main chair, looking out the window as he asked: "A problem? With what?"

"Well maybe you didn't notice but Revy seemed a little off when she came in here."

Rock didn't look at Dutch as he spoke, but this was something he didn't really want to talk about, if there was anything to discuss in the first place. "I didn't notice anything strange."

Dutch smiled in that all knowing way that Rock had seen before. "Well you don't need to be a student of the human animal to see that something's been bugging her for the past few weeks. I should probably ask; did something happen when you two were top side?"

Rock tried to speak, tried to say that nothing had happened; something had indeed happened, he just wasn't completely sure what it was. "Dutch– "

"If you don't want to tell me that's fine. But whatever's going on between you two can't get in the way right now."

"I'm not even sure what _did_ happen, Dutch," Rock said. "We were talking and… I don't know. Things have been different for a while; probably since coming back from Japan."

He'd be lying if he were to say that he hadn't noticed certain aspects of his partner that were slightly out of character; their friendship – and that was what Rock considered it to be – was different somehow. She didn't get down on him half as much as she used to, aside from just a moment ago anyway, but then there was the way she looked when he made his revulsion at the shirt known once again, as if he really had struck a nerve with her. But how could that be possible, he wondered? She'd never really seemed hurt like that before, so why would that change now? What was really so different nowadays?

"Well Rock," Dutch said. "As much as I'd luv' to talk about this more, I think we've got bigger problems right now. If I were you I'd hold on to something; I don't think those guys are chasing us to announce that we've won a free holiday to Greece."

"No," Rock agreed. "Somehow, I doubt that too."

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><p>Revy tried to shake off the memories of her conversation with Rock; there was no way she wanted to give that subject any more thought, at least not now. She was pissed off enough with the ex-office jockey as it was without going over his last words again, although she wasn't entirely sure why she was so annoyed.<p>

_What do I care if he doesn't like the goddamn shirt_? She thought._ Just leave it alone for fuck sakes_, _no point in thinking about that shit now._

She went about shutting her mind down as the clock counted to the inevitable zero, to the moment when the bullets would begin to fly, and a smile crossed her lips as she headed for the hatch. She'd already grabbed what she needed and was now completely intent on satisfying that deep dripping hunger that came on the eave of every battle fought. It was a delicious sensation, the kind that even sex couldn't match.

Something told her that these guys coming after them meant business; who they were didn't really enter into the matter. She'd been waiting for some action and the open ocean gave her something different. It had been quite some time since she'd been involved in combat at sea, and she was looking forward to the experience of filling those fuckers full of holes.

She came out through the rear hatch, the wind whipping away at the back of her head as her eyes caught the small boats on the Lagoon's six, coming up fast. She lifted a pair of binoculars from around her neck and scanned the tightly knit group: five boats in total. As they got closer Revy caught the sight of men readying weapons, but couldn't tell what they were packing just yet. In any case it didn't make much of a difference to her. _Five of them; way too fuckin' easy_!

Revy kept her feet balanced on the last ladder bar, bringing her assault rifle to bare, the sun gleaming from its reflective metallic surface, flashing across her vision momentarily; it was an FNC model that she'd bought two months ago, and so far her new toy hadn't been properly tested, but today was that day, and all its specs gave nothing but compliments to its design. If it proved itself to be half as reliable as her Cutlass then she'd made a good purchase that day. Although these weren't the only surprises she had waiting for these bastards. _If it's blood they want then its blood they'll get._

"Revy," Dutch's voice entered her earpiece. "How's it looking out there?"

"Five boats," she said, barely able to contain her excitement. "Maybe two men per craft, all carrying noise makers."

"Don't go firing off rounds just yet," Revy signed loudly at hearing this. "I'm serious; no killing until we know they've got it coming."

Revy ground her teeth. "Roger, boss-man."

Even if their pursuers were hostile, they were placed so close together that she could probably pull off the same stunt from last time: jumping from boat to boat and wiping out every last one of them one by one. With this thought enthusiastically locked in, she watched as the group came within fifty metres of the PT boat. Revy eye's darkened when something changed; the speedboats got a little closer before suddenly breaking up, spreading out to create a space of maybe twenty five feet of frothing water between each. It was at this moment that Revy felt a slight prickle of unease run down her back.

"Shit," she said, unhooking her binoculars and setting them aside. "Yep, they've got it coming. Dutch! They've spread out; get ready to rock the boat!"

Just after she spoke, her ears were deafened by the sudden whistle of bullets flying mere inches above her head, some twanging off of the railing surrounding the hatch. She ducked her head for a moment, grinning like a kid at Christmas as the fight was now on; keeping the stock of the rifle firmly against her shoulder, Revy calmly stared through the hail of bullets as she took aim at the lead boat, opening fire on the driver. The windshield erupted into tiny glistening shards as the boat veered off to the left, trying to avoid her shots, resulting in the gunman in the passenger seat falling backwards, two bloody holes appearing in his chest.

Revy smiled at the confirmed kill, but had to fight to keep her balance on the ladder when an explosion went off close to the Lagoon's left side, a bright shower of water blasted upward, the explosion barely missing the Lagoon and shaking her out of position. Revy cursed silently as she saw two of the boats drawing closer; the man holding a grenade launcher in the craft on the right caught her attention. If she didn't take that guy out now she'd be toast in a heartbeat. Laying down as much suppressing fire as she could, she then aimed for the one boat, hoping that she didn't take a bullet to the head before she could make an end of her prey. She kept the grenade launcher shit for brains in her sights, even as Dutch pulled the ship hard to starboard, and then she fired off three careful shots just as the man raised the launcher again; one went wide, one caught the guy in the throat, while the last made its mark directly centred in his forehead, sending him limp in his seat. A split second after that last kill, the entire boat went up in a display of fire and smoke, sending shards of shrapnel souring into the air as the other boats manoeuvred away from the blast; Revy ducked from return fire again, guessing that the launcher must have gone off as the guy collapsed in his seat. _Unlucky for him_, she thought merrily.

But a part of her wasn't enjoying this as much as usual; these guys weren't as stupid as she had first thought, their attack pattern suggesting some experience. Revy knew that if they were just a rag-tag bunch of scummy bandits then they'd be well and truly fucked by now, but from the moment they got within shooting range they had made their ability quite clear. But on the other hand if their aim was as good as hers then she might have been clocked in the head by now; the Lagoon wasn't as agile as the smaller pursuing craft, so maybe the henchmen weren't all that brilliant? Maybe it's whoever's leading them that knows a thing or two? Or maybe they're just getting lucky?

Revy cut the speculation out as she prepared the deal out death once again. She rose from her cover and let another hail of bullets fly, punching holes in the face of another driver and bringing the boat to slow down and fall behind. She was about take aim at another target when she felt a ripping pain shoot across her left shoulder; Revy roared in anger, not bothering to check her wound as she emptied the last of her magazine towards the closest boat, which swept to port, only catching a couple of hits in its hull. And then the enemy returned fire, seemingly from every remaining boat; three left, but already they were causing so much trouble. She could feel the thundering shots that the back of the Lagoon was taking; it was a tough boat, but by no means indestructible. If she didn't take them out soon, she and the others would be swimming home.

While ducking down and reloaded her rifle, Revy's eyes briefly went over her shoulder; it wasn't bleeding badly, more of a graze than anything. It wasn't anything that a quick stitch job couldn't fix.

"Rock!" she yelled. "Get your ass to the rear hatch and hand me the M-79."

"I'm coming," he responded in her ear.

She didn't wait to see him appear in the entryway; coming up again, Revy continued to fire, snarling as the boats furthest away fired back whilst the closest evaded her bullets, only taking minor damage. She was getting tired of this dancing around, so much so that she almost didn't see the man in the far left boat raising the RPG in her direction. Her gut curled in upon itself as she saw the bastard level Mr Sudden Doom with the torpedo boat.

"Dutch! Shake this bitch's fat ass already!"

The rocket propelled grenade shot towards the Lagoon, just as Dutch pulled from left to right like a madman. Revy watched, in almost slow motion as she continued to fight, continued to fire, as the world became a frightening blur from the Lagoon's frantic movements. A horrendous boom called out with an earthquake-like rumble as a watery blast went off somewhere to her right, sending a vibration through her entire body and shaking every inch of the ship. Revy's feet left the ladder, meeting nothing to thin air as she fell from the hatch entrance, plunging down and crashing to floor. She grunted loudly as she touched down, down onto a surprisingly soft yet bony surface.

"Owwww!"

"What the– " Revy shook her daze away, ignoring the ringing in her ears as she looked down to what she'd just fallen on.

Rock was lying beneath her, sprawled out and in obvious discomfort, one hand rubbing at his head, the other holding her grenade launcher with its strap of extra ammo. Although there was definite pain in his blood shot eyes, in his reddening face, she didn't think anything was broken. And despite the situation, the sight of him lying there like a crash mat was too hilarious for words.

Revy left her rifle on the floor and retrieved the launcher from him. "Thanks dumb-ass."

Without looking back, Revy left a bewildered and groaning Rock on the ground, heading back up the ladder; at the same time she ignored numerous bumps and scrapes from her fall. A wicked buzz encased her body as well as her brain as she emerged from the hatch again, the muscles in her arms pulling and tensing as she heaved herself up into the open.

When she took in the rear view once more, she was met with a surprise; only two boats could be seen. The third was nowhere to be found.

"Dutch," she said. "You got eyes on anything?"

Before her employer answered Revy already heard the metal ping of a machine pistol going off somewhere at the front of the ship. "I've got one trying to play chicken with me," Dutch replied. "This guy's eyes are bigger than his stomach."

Revy couldn't see the boat, its body being obscured by the protruding shell of the bridge. As the Lagoon shifted from side to side, Revy took aim with the M-79, leaping from the hatch and onto the large stretch of the top deck. Keeping her balance with the skill of a star athlete as she darted to the left, avoiding a shower of machinegun fire as she let loose with the launcher, taking out the rear left boat, creating a terrible ball of fire that continued onward as it's already demised occupants cooked within the inferno (Revy was comically reminded of a headless chicken, still trotting on after the infliction of it's decapitation) before coming to a flaming dead stop.

"What the… Revy! We've got a visitor." Dutch called into her ear just as she saw the boat – that had been at the nose of the ship – passing by to join it's one and only remaining partner at the Lagoon's back.

She didn't have time to pay attention to the two remaining boats; she'd caught Dutch's words too late, and spun on her heels to receive the full weight of a body slamming into her, knocking her to the ground, sucking the wind right out of her lungs. The grenade launcher rolled out of her hand, tumbling behind her as a huge stubble wearing man in an weathered blue boiler suit bared down on her; a long combat knife resting firmly in his hand as he brought it downward, aiming for her chest. Revy gasped angrily as she brought both hands up, grasping her attackers wrist and managing to cease the blade in its tracks, its tip hovering half in inch from its intended mark. She fought for breath as the attacker growled, balling his free hand up and throwing punches down at her. Revy shifted her head away to avoid the numerous blows, the last catching her on the side of the head, and her eyes widened when the sharp tip of metal dipped into the skin of her gut ever so slightly.

"Revy!" Dutch called into her earpiece. "What's going on out there girl?"

She didn't answer, couldn't answer. All the while her rage was working overtime to pry the knife away whilst trying to not have her lights knocked out from the continued barrage of blows, but the man was large – over twice her size – and the struggle was gradually gaining force in his favour as he puffed and yelled with his efforts. Revy picked up the harsh smell of cigars on his breath, and she knew that his knife was about to hit home and stay there.

Just when she thought her end had finally arrived, the Lagoon shifted sharp to the left, and the man who had nearly killed her tumbled off, landing on his back to her right. Revy didn't waste any time, with her teeth bared in a roaring eruption of anger, she swung her fist in a hammer-like blow to his throat. The resulting bulge of his eyes as he choked caused him to drop his knife, sending it clanging across the deck and into the ocean as Revy rolled onto him, now completely ignoring the bullets from the remaining adversaries as she straddled the bastard's stomach as he fought vainly for oxygen. Grasping the sides of his face with her fingers, she buried her thumbs in his eyes, and the brightness of the day was alight with the horrifying screams of the man as he released his terrible agony for all the world to hear. Blood gushed and oozed from his sockets, and even with that done, Revy was far from satisfied.

Releasing both her Cutlass from their holsters, she planted four bullets in his face, sending jets of scarlet spilling upward as his cries were permanently ended. The gun fire continued from the rear, and as Revy looked up – the crimson life from the dead man sprayed across her face – she saw that the shooting was only coming from the one boat; obviously the other one had lost its gunner when the piece of shit jumped aboard. Revy was done with his game now.

_These cocksuckers are dead_!

Raising her 92's, she leaped from the lifeless body and opened fire, running at full speed towards the boat that still posed a threat. She darted and ducked from oncoming bullets; all thought of failure, of death, of loosing, it was all gone now and all that remained in her hunter's brain was the kill. That was all that existed. She wouldn't stop until they were all corpses.

She sprinted to the back of the Lagoon, seeing that the firing speedboat was only ten feet behind; grinning like a bloodied shark, Revy leapt into the air, all the while continuing to fire. Her body rolled and turned as she effortlessly flew, like a bird, somersaulting through the air and creating a constellation of red holes through the driver and his gun-toting passenger, ending them both even before she landed hard in the back seat behind them. The adrenaline thrived within her and kept her moving; some part of her mind – right at the very back – would know that she'd feel the landing later, but right now she was moving, not caring, climbing over the dead bodies as the boat began to loose control. She jumped onto the front of the speedboat and leapt with everything she had, cutting the distance before the boat slowed and landing back on the deck of the Lagoon with a victorious grunt.

She rose from where she'd landed, laughing quietly as she reloaded her cutlass, her heart drumming with homicidal joy, staring down the remaining gun-less boat; she could see the fear in the driver's eyes as they bulged from their sockets, a mixture of terror and astonishment dancing within their watery surface.

"That's right fucker," she whispered, slipping two new mags into place and thumbing back the hammers. "Its just you and me now."

* * *

><p>Rock's heart stopped for a moment – for just a brief instant of terrifying uncertainty – when Revy didn't answer Dutch; he held onto the back of the main seat in the bridge as Dutch pushed the Lagoon to its top speed. He couldn't see his employer's face right now, but he could feel the definite tension emanating from the larger man, steaming up from him in invisible clouds. But in Rock's case, he thought that if anyone cared to look at him right now they would see the anxiety ripping away at his sweating facial features.<p>

"Revy?" Dutch called again. Not response.

And then they heard it: gunfire once again, and Rock was relieved when he recognised the sounds (he'd heard them more than enough times to know for certain) to be from Revy's Cutlass'. The fight wasn't over yet; Revy wasn't over yet. Though no matter how things were turning out up on the top deck, Rock had already made up his mind.

"I'm going to check on her," he said, turning away from the front of the bridge and heading for the door.

"Just keep your head down," Dutch said over his shoulder. "I don't need you full of goddamn holes."

Rock simply replied with a nod, not looking to see if Dutch had noticed or not, and then he ran for the forward hatch; even as he grasped the ladder and began his ascent, he could still hear firing. At one point he thought he heard Revy cry out, but it didn't sound like pain, more like a battle cry. _Come, Revy,_ he thought nervously. _Don't you dare get shot after everything you've survived._

"You fucking COWARD!" he heard her scream suddenly, and then more shooting.

Rock came up from the front hatchway to view Revy at the back of the deck, firing furiously at one boat, which was now retreating fast in the opposite direction. He felt a great heap of relief fall onto him when he saw this; it appeared that she'd come out victorious again. Rock almost smiled at the sight; she never ceased to amaze, especially when it came to the way of the gun, to making an end of all who crossed her. But it seemed that her last kill had eluded her, and was speeding further and further away.

"Revy," Rock called as he jumped down onto the deck, knowing now that it was safe to do so.

Revy turned her head back to him, and the fury he saw in her eyes from loosing her mark was all too clear, and scary; she holstered her Cutlass' as she shouted: "Rock, hand me that launcher over there!"

He saw it, and ran without hesitation, grimacing a little at the body he had to jump over to get to the weapon: a man with several bullet holes in his paling face, not to mention two small puddles of dark red where his eyes used to be. The sight was enough to make him want to vomit. He blocked out the gruesome image as he moved on by, grabbing the launcher off of the ground, and carrying it towards Revy as she stood there, looking out at the boat that was getting smaller and smaller; her obvious impatience causing her to shake, her fists clenching as she waited.

Rock was three feet behind her when the Lagoon rocked once again; he tried hard but couldn't keep his balance, and began falling forward. His panic rose as he struggled to fall in another direction, any direction would do except for the one he was heading in. _Shit! No, no, nononono! _He couldn't stop, and Revy turned around just in time to receive his full weight slam into her; the impact was enough to cease Rock's movement, but unfortunately knocked the enraged gunslinger off the boat.

"Rock! The motherf– " her words were cut off by the splash as her body plunging into the water.

"Revy!" Rock yelled as he regained his footing on the deck. _Ah crap, she's going to fucking kill me!_

* * *

><p><em>Well that's chapter one finished, I hope you guys like this story so far; I will try and get a second chapter out as soon as I can.<br>_


	2. Chapter 2

_Finally the second chapter is up. I'm really sorry to everyone who has read the first chapter when it came out at the start of the year. I just completely lost the buzz to go on with it for some reason. Hopefully I won't have that problem from this point on. Anyway, I hope you all like this latest chapter. And again, I do not own Black Lagoon, the series and all its character (aside from any OC's of course) are the property of Rei Hiroe.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Forever Changed<strong>

**Chapter II**

The woman sat within the dark. She leaned back into a not so comfy chair, not that this really bothered her in any physical way. Her legs were outstretched, her feet resting on the hard surface of a thick desk. She was dialling a number; her eyes were closed, wrapping her perception in a further sheet of darkness.

A window sat behind her, the blinds shut, giving the sunlight of the outside world not even the barest peek into her pitch-black solitude. There were only two simple abilities she needed for the moment, and those were hearing and speech. That was all.

Despite herself she had begun to feel an odd sensation beginning to churn deep inside, one she hadn't experienced in a good long while. Some people might have identified this feeling as excitement. She hadn't been certain at first; recalling such a strong wealth of feeling in the past was no easy task. But nevertheless it was there, beginning with its ever so subtle lurking at the pit of her stomach, rising and rising gradually. It had now matured into a full-blown flutter that rattled through her chest. It was the anticipation of the next few days. She knew this to be fact, wholly and truthfully. At first this course of action hadn't interested her in the least, despite the raging enthusiasm of certain other parties. But now it was upon her. The thrill of a new age, a new calling, a new purpose that she hoped would bless her with some sense of meaning once again.

Too long had she and her own resided in their seclusion, cast away from the naïve reality of so called civilisation. She and those like her had remained in a stagnant state of limbo, shielding themselves for months on end. It went on until their minds could no longer fathom what it meant to be truly alive. The world could have been a much more interesting place if they only had a reason to exist, to taste life after so long a time. Now she thought that perhaps they had found that reason, or at the very least the birth of that reason.

She held the phone to her ear, clucking her tongue as the seconds rolled by, as the phone continued its monotonous ringing at the other end. If no one answered she would just ring back a minute or two later. But waiting caused irritation within her, and oddly she found the sensation almost pleasing; experiencing something genuine was a rare thing for her, and it spawned a smile that felt almost alien. But her impatience wouldn't entertain for long, not when her hopes of achieving some semblance of a reason for being had finally took root within her mind.

After an unbelievable number of seconds someone finally answered. The female voice that arrived at the other end was the very one she had hoped for. However before they could properly begin she got there first. "Christ, I thought you'd never answer."

There was a momentary silence. "Who is this? If you're looking for– "

"Oh, sweetie," she said, an almost uncontained amusement filling her up. "Do you really need a reminder? It hasn't been _that_ long, has it?"

There was another stretch of speechlessness, but although the woman said nothing her breathing had grown somewhat strained. " …You."

"Yep, it's me. I know it's been a while, but one would think you'd have recognised my voice from the start. So how is life treating you, Sister?"

"How did you find me?"

"Remember who you're talking to. We come from the same place, more or less. Not that you've seen much of home lately. Are you really enjoying that dump? How long has it been since you were given that assignment?"

"Cut the bullshit, Claudia?" the voice snapped. "What do you want from me?"

She silently seethed at the use of her name. "So much for the small-talk then. Funny, I remember you being quite the social loud mouth. Has so much changed?"

"I don't know what your game is, you crazy bitch, but I'm warning you– "

"Warning me?" Claudia, as she was once known, was beyond amused. "_You _are warning _me_? The way I see it, you're not in much of a position to threaten anyone, given how prickly your situation is in that rat-hole city. I wonder what would happen if the carnivorous population were to discover where your loyalties really lay."

Her old acquaintance didn't respond to her words. This increased the dripping enthusiasm of her smile, causing it to pull horridly across her face; it stretched every muscle, almost causing her to experience the barest traces of pain. It had been so long since a smile so large had graced her lips.

"Got nothing to say? I hope you're not thinking of hanging up on me. That would be a terrible shame."

"Why are you calling me?" the woman asked. "What happened before you disappeared had nothing to do with me."

Claudia smiled again. "And I have no intention of wronging you in any way. No, I don't want blood from you. What I need is something else."

"Something else?"

"A favour. Nothing too stressful."

There was another brief pause. A harsh sigh slipped into Claudia's ear, brushing its way into her with its defeated confirmation of the woman's reluctant surrender. After all, Claudia knew everything about her.

"What king of favour?"

Her smile faded. It was time for business. "I need something smuggled into Roanapur – well below radar obviously; I wouldn't want any of the local heavy hitters turning their eyes toward an unknown element. There's a friend in the city that will be eagerly awaiting this gift I have. All you have to do is make sure it reaches them unnoticed. I should imagine that you are more than capable of handling that, that is if sitting on your ass for so long hasn't dulled you down too much."

"This isn't the States, Claudia. It isn't the kind of town where you can just waltz in and cause trouble. And I'm not taking any of your– "

"Perhaps you've forgotten me after all," Claudia said. "If you remembered then you wouldn't be arguing. And did I make it sound as though you had a choice? The rest of The Pack is with me one hundred percent."

" …The Pack? They're… t-they're all still with you?"

"Oh course they are. They've been out of the game for too long now. We all have. Its time we got our hands drenched in red again."

"Claudia. If you're thinking of– "

"Oh I'm not thinking. I'm doing. Which is what you should be doing as well. And I wouldn't think of calling Langley either. And you know why I'm saying this, don't you? Also, I don't know what your Chinese friends will do if you're exposed, but I imagine that their Russian neighbours will react to the news in some not so subtle way. It will be a bad day to be a nun in that town, that's for sure."

Again, no response came from the other end. Claudia (she still couldn't call herself that without cringing. Claudia. Claudia. She counted herself fortunate to have so many other alias' to choose from) knew that the first step was complete.

"Well?" she said. "Tick-tock, Eda. I don't have all day."

"Fine."

"What was that?"

"I said fine!"

"Excellent. So there are details to go over. Lets not waste any more time, shall we?"

* * *

><p>The tension that swirled throughout the office took on a near tangible form, so much so that a person might be able to cut it with knife if they felt so inclined to do so. Rock paced about in silence, barely taking notice of his surroundings. His mind was racing at two hundred miles per hour, fighting with an all too obvious futility to uncover an answer, a scrap of spoken language that he might use when the door to the spare bedroom finally opened.<p>

He couldn't avoid it; he had to at least try to say something to her. The prospect wasn't pretty in any way that he could name, but he had to make some sort of effort. Now that he'd been back on dry land for the past three hours he was already well within the clutches of a choking perspiration, not all of which was generated by the day's searing heat. He couldn't help but feel that he had managed to step over two separate lines today. Both of which could have dangerous consequences. Although a brief glance at his co-workers offered him some fraction of ease. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing at all.

Benny was lying across the length of the couch nearest the window, quietly flicking his eyes through lines of text in a magazine. Rock had noticed a picture on the glossy cover, an assortment of computer items. It wasn't that he was in any way curious about his friend's reading material, but anything that could subdue his growing anxiety would be a godsend at this point. His nerves were shattering, and for the life of him he couldn't stop moving for so much as a second. He'd been at this ever since they got back to the office; his legs had now taken on a rubber-like quality that was gradually wearing him down even more.

"Why don't you sit down before you give yourself a heart attack?"

Rock heard Dutch's voice, but only just. It reached his ears as a muffled call from a place that he had not been occupying, as if in a different world all together. No actual words could have been pieced together right away.

"Rock?"

"What?" Rock asked, finally retreating from his frightful trance.

"I said why don't you sit down before you give yourself a damn heart attack?" Dutch repeated from his place on the opposite couch. "Just watching you is tiring me out."

Rock just shook his head. "It's ok, I– "

"Look Rock," Dutch said, taking a short drag of a cigarette before going on. "She'll come out when she's ready. Hell, I'm amazed you even want to be here right now. She was pretty pissed when she got out of the water."

"You don't need to remind me, Dutch."

"And what do you think has changed in the last couple of hours? Probably nothing. Its gonna take at least a couple of days for her to cool down after this."

"It's not like I did it on purpose."

Rock saw one of Dutch's eyebrows rise up from under his sunglasses. "And, you think Revy's gonna see the difference?"

"I think Dutch has a point, Rock." Benny said, his eyes still scanning through pages.

"Don't get me wrong," Dutch continued. "If Benny or me had done what you did, we'd be picking bullets out of our kneecaps right about now. You two have been getting along like a house on fire these days. I don't know what your secret is Rock, but if I were you I wouldn't waste it."

Maybe around so short a time as a minute had passed – or such a long time considering the course of events and Rock's chill of panic – before the boat was sitting just where she had fallen in. Dutch had tried to raise her on her earpiece but obviously that had been out of the question. Rock had to run back to the bridge and let his boss know what was up. They had turned the boat around, and located her fairly quickly after that.

The last of their attackers had already ceased to be so much as even the faintest speck on the horizon, his tail set firmly between his legs. Whoever they had been, Rock didn't think that Lagoon Company would be hearing from them any time in the near future, certainly not if they knew what was good for them.

Rock remembered the rest of what took place with a vivid clarity, drumming away at his heart with near shuddering hammer blows. He saw her, treading water, silently glaring up at him as he ran to her aid.

He was certain that his apology had been profoundly etched into her face at that time, so he never bothered to say anything at first. He supposed that she'd be in no fit mood to give his words a moment to come out anyway. But the look she gave him, like that of a lone wolf staring down its prey forced him to act with an even greater haste than before. Most people – most folk that cherished their own lives and well being – would have fled in the other direction at the very sight of such an expression. However Rock, being the person he supposed he always would be, acted in the opposite manner. He didn't run, he never ran. Not from her.

He leaned himself over board, reaching out and offering his hand. Surprisingly enough she accepted, rolling her eyes in a maddening sort of way as she grasped his hand. He helped her out of the ocean, her drenched body coming to a sitting halt on the deck beside him. For a short time no words were exchanged. The two of them simply sitting, looking back at one another. The fearsome glow was ever present in Revy's narrow stare; her hair was soaked through with salt water, waves of dark reddish brown glistening from her pony tail, falling over her shoulder, producing clear pearls that raced down her body.

"Are you ok?" he finally asked.

There had been the faintest of twitches in her wet features, the smallest thing that almost never happened; it was the kind of thing that a person could miss if they were to blink at that exact time. Only Rock hadn't missed a thing. For a few seconds he was convinced that he would be in for her usual display of anger. _What if its something worse this time,_ he had thought? What if she had finally had enough? What if the partnership, the friendship that had grown between them, had been broken in one clumsy and irreversible instant? What if she chucked in the effort of putting up with him and decided to cancel him once and for all? These questions danced their irrational waltz through his jumbled brain as she looked back at him. And all that he could do was sit there in silence, waiting for some kind of reaction. Any response would do, as long as she did _something._

"Rock," she murmured, not a shout or scream this time, making him believe that he might be off the hook. "Say another word and I'll feed you your fuckin' balls."

With that short sentence spoken, Revy picked herself up and trod off below deck. Rock had been left speechless, silenced and guilt ridden. He didn't know why at first, but her response – while only being mere words – had stung him more than anything else she could have done. It was like a confirmation. 'Yes Rock,' it said. 'You have fucked up. Can't fix it now, dumb-ass'.

For the entire journey to Chang's Revy hadn't said a single word. The most Rock had heard from her had been after she had stormed off after getting out of the water, mainly in the form of her screaming something at Dutch; strangely he hadn't heard his name among the stream of curses. But it was the silence during the drive back to the office that bothered him, clinging to him like a bad stain.

And now he was walking back and forth, trying to fully understand everything that had taken place. Why hadn't she ridiculed him like so many times in the past? He would have to uncover an answer sooner or later, although right now he was certain that he'd have better luck taking down a T-rex with a feather duster.

"I wonder what Mr Chang will come up with?" he said, deciding to shift his mind toward something a little more easy to process.

Dutch had managed to get enough of a description from Revy so that they could pass it on to Chang, letting him know that there was an unknown group out there, possibly looking for more trouble in the future. The Triad leader told them he'd see what information he could dig up and that was that. He had said it would be the least he could do after a job well done on Lagoon's part.

"If a new player is moving in then you can bet somebody has heard something by now," Dutch replied. "But if that was all they had then it wasn't much of a debut. Like lemmings, throwing themselves off of the first cliff they can find."

Rock finally allowed himself to slump down on the couch next to Dutch; an astronomical wave of relief washed throughout his legs at the sudden act at of sitting down.

"I wonder who would want to muscle their way into this city?" Benny said, letting his magazine fall to his chest. "With so many players already rooted deep into Roanapur you'd think they'd try looking some place else."

The stirrings of realisation hit Rock, and then took full form within seconds. "Just because they tried to kill us doesn't mean someone's looking to mark new territory. What if they– "

"What if they were just sent for the soul purpose of wiping us out?" Dutch finished, rising from his seat and heading toward the fridge.

Rock shook his head. "We should have considered that from the start."

Benny nodded. "It wouldn't be the first time some merc crew has tried to fry our ass'."

"Balalaika and Chang have got no reason to want us dead, and we'd already be toast if they did," Dutch closed the fridge and came back with three beers, passing them around before settling back down and popping his can open. "So it's a case of taking your pick of everyone else in this fucked up town. That might not be a long list anyway, at least not one filled with people we should be worried about. On the other hand it's still a list of enemies. Whatever's going on, Chang will give us the heads up sooner or later."

Rock leaned his head back, resting his neck against the cushion as he stared at the ceiling. "Make's me wonder,"

"Wonder what, Rock?" Benny asked.

"Who we might have crossed the line with this time?" Rock said, letting a sigh fall out of him. "So we just sit tight in the meantime, huh?"

"That's about the size of it," Dutch replied, sipping his drink before speaking on. "In any case we might hear something later at the Yellow Flag. I'll make a few calls before we head out as well."

"Maybe the sister's at the Rip-off church have heard something? Or Miss Balalaika?" Benny said as he rose from the couch. "Anyway, Dutch, if you don't need me for a little while I'm gonna go online and say hello to Jane."

"Knock yourself out Benny boy,"

Benny and Janet: Roanapur's one and only romance. Rock smiled at the thought of those two, who had actually been able to find some peice of happiness despite the shifting chaos of their lives. He wondered what that could feel like?

After Benny left there was a deep silence yet again. Rock didn't even open his can, but instead just sat there, thinking on what the possibilities were of someone new on the horizon. Those people had been turned back, and for all anyone knew that was the last Lagoon would ever see of them. So then why was he filled with such a rotten feeling of impending doom?

"Its not over." Rock whispered. _Why do I think that_?

He noticed Dutch's questioning glance, and could feel the examination going on behind the lenses of his shades. His employer opened his mouth, about to speak when the door to the spare room opened. The sound caused Rock to flitch slightly. Revy came strolling out, holding a tattered old backpack as she crossed the space of the office. Her eyes flicked across Rock for just a slither of a second, and then she was staring forward again. He couldn't help it; he thought that now he was back to square one again. He didn't like the feeling it gave him, now more than ever.

"You ok, Revy?" Dutch asked, looking up from his seat.

"Fine." She never stopped walking.

"Two-Hands?" the boss called, raising his voice just a touch.

Revy ceased her tracks at the door, swinging around to face the large man, staring right past Rock as he looked on. An aching helplessness filled him up at seeing this, seeing her gaze shoot right by him. He saw the swelling of aggravation crawl into her face.

"Look Dutch. I'm fine."

"Well– "

"Agghhh! What the fuck!" she growled, taking a deep breathe a second later. "Look, I'm heading over to the Yellow Flag to drink myself into a fuckin' coma. Ok? I'll catch ya later."

Dutch didn't seem to want to press her anymore. He simply shook his head. "Just keep your eyes open."

"Always do."

Rock couldn't hold his choking silence anymore. "Revy– "

"Rock," she cut him off, but she didn't sound half as angry as he had thought. In fact her voice had that same drained quality it had on deck before the attack. "I just spent ages taking my Cutlass' apart and salvaging dry gunpowder. You owe me for the bullets you got wet." And then she left, going through the front door at a hurried pace.

The quiet that followed was so heavy, so dense that it could have suffocated him. He continued to look at the closed door, thinking that at any minute she would come back to scold him in true Revy fashion. But she never did. Something was different with her; the way she had spoken to Dutch was consistent with how she reacted to most people when she was pissed off. And then she had spoken to Rock, and that tone of voice was so different in nature that it was in some ways scarier. The fire wasn't there. Why? What was happening? Rock didn't know, but it was chipping away at him bit by bit.

"Rock," Dutch suddenly spoke, and Rock could feel the man's scrutiny on the back of his head. "Don't think I don't know that look in your eyes. I don't even need to see your face; it's the same as on the boat after Revy walked out of the bridge. What's going on?"

"I… " Rock found his words were now more unenthusiastic than ever before. "I'm not sure."

In truth he was sure, as certain as a rising sun of what was going on – at least with himself anyway. He didn't know for certain, but he was almost positive that Dutch was aware of these facts as well. There wasn't much that got past Dutch; the man was like a walking talking river of awareness that never stopped flowing. Even so, he still couldn't bring himself to explain his feelings. Keeping those emotions to himself, for the moment at least, was something he couldn't help but do.

* * *

><p><em>Ok, I know this chapter was shorter than the last, and also that there wasn't any action. But don't worry, it won't be long before things get chaotic. Again, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be back with an update as soon as possible.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi! Sorry I haven't updated in ages. Pretty much a mix of being busy followed by be lazy. Anyway, this chapter is quite short, but I just wanted to let you know all know that I haven't vanished, so I put this short chapter on while I work on the next chapter, which will be longer I promise. Anyway, this chapter isn't much but I hope you like it._

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><p><strong>Forever Changed<strong>

**Chapter III  
><strong>

Two glasses, only two measly shots of Bacardi. No more and no less than that were all that had met an end as Revy sat alone, alone with nothing but her own thoughts laid out in front of her, just as senseless as the random mingling of words behind her.

_This is it_, she thought.

Her arms were folded, her chin resting on them. A whole mind-numbing hour had managed to limp its way by so far, spent in head-breaking contemplation. And two glasses was all she had managed to accomplish in all of that time.

She was more or less in the process of nursing her third drink, tapping her fingers against it, gently nudging it to the right and then to the left; dark liquid shuddered and rippled within the glass, creating the slightest of tsunami-like parodies within its miniature world. It might have been as long as five minutes since she had last touched it, but in her slowly dimming perception of the world it could have been closer to five years for all she cared.

_What the hell am I doing_?

The Yellow Flag was no different tonight than it was any other night; like every other heated evening it swelled with its typical commotion. Not that Revy even bothered to pay any real attention to the local sea of shit that waded here and there; waves of contempt sitting beneath the surface of drunken eyes, deep pits of aggression splashing against one another like a violent ocean storm.

There was a time when she would have felt kindred (she still did for the most part) to these cutthroat scumbags. She belonged with them, along side each and every one of them, joining them in the nightly repetition until her just deserts came to lethally greet her as well. Like them, she was just another walking infliction of death and destruction. However at this moment in time, within these waves of hostility, she felt like a very small island in the centre of it all. A tiny piece of land, a land of desperate confusion.

If there was one thing in the entirety of his life that she loathed intensely, it was uncertainty. Everything should have made sense, at least on some basic level. Only this time, it didn't. So to question herself, her own thoughts and feelings, as if they were now a fractured cluster of objects lying under a microscope – in the very startling way that she had been doing since entering the bar – was an uncomfortable exercise. Of course to say that would be putting things at their mildest.

She hadn't asked for any of this, to be entrapped by a deepening well of painful mystery, one that she was slowly but surely sinking into, further and further she went, every day. Even _she _couldn't fully understand her own state of mind at present. It wasn't like there was some much sort after textbook that could explain these things any better. And so there she was, unable to complete so simple a task as emptying her third glass of its contents, of which any other night would be so promising in its beckoning of her attention.

"What a fuckin' joke," she mumbled.

"Did you say something?" Bao yelled from his seat behind the bar.

"Shut up," Revy mumbled again, never once looking up from her glass.

The world she lived in, the air she breathed, the darkening path that she trod every day; these were all aspects of her life that she had been fully content with. Or at least she had thought so. She tasted the life of someone who walked on the very edge every second of every day. Feelings and self-examination were not traits that often pained the countless leagues of the condemned. So, she asked herself, why did that have to be threatened? Why had her existence, something that had been so incredibly and bleakly clear to her have to be challenged in such a way? And why by something that she should have regarded as so minute, so irrelevant?

Reflection, if this was indeed what it was, wasn't something that Revy – the girl once known as Rebecca – had ever been in any way proficient at. It caused her nothing but grief as her mind wandered on. It forced her already tired brain to ache long before its time, long before her will to keep drinking was completely spent and she had no choice but to be carried off by Dutch, back to her rats nest of an apartment. Sometimes she walked, sometimes. Or Rock would on occasion help her home, as long as he wasn't dead to the world as well.

_Rock_, she thought, a frown creasing her forehead at the sound of his name, bouncing off of the inner walls of her skull. _Rock, you damn bastard. Son of a bitch_!_ This is your fault, you fuckin' shit for brains_!

* * *

><p>By the time Rock and the others had made it to the Yellow Flag things had already begun to liven up. The colourful and violently varied commotion within the bar was now in its full swing.<p>

Just as always, a swamp of headless chickens pacing this way and that, moving restlessly. Cards were dealt and played, money was scattered and reluctantly thrown away. Guns were kept close, triggers awaiting pressure from their precious owners. Narrow eyes danced back and forth in a relentless flow; voices roared over each other for supremacy. Shots and pints were knocked back and glasses crashed down onto tables. Fighting broke out in one place, followed swiftly by another.

_Pretty much a regular night of consistent ill will and mistrust among the walking dead_, Rock thought.

He found this to be somewhat of an oddity in a way, just how calm things had appeared from outside by comparison. It was almost too quiet out on the streets. Empty roads, layered with inactivity, as if the town was almost waiting for the tumbleweed to come rolling by. Nothing but the shadows kept the sidewalks company.

If Dutch or Benny had any thoughts on the strangely transformed scenery, then neither of them was in any big hurry to reveal those thoughts.

It was altogether possible that nothing was wrong at all. Perhaps Rock was simple looking too hard at the details, seeing things that weren't there? Maybe it was guilt? Perhaps that was his biggest problem, he thought? Revy had so far dominated his thinking all day long, shifting his senses into far too much of a scrambled mess, preventing clear thought from making itself fully known.

As soon as they pushed through the doors his eyes caught her. She was at the bar, slouching in her usual seat. From what Rock could see she appeared to be locked in some kind of discussion with Bao. She hadn't noticed them entering.

Rock slipped behind his co-workers, allowing them to take the lead from this point. He noticed Dutch sweep a questioning glance in his direction as he walked by, but other than that his employer made no comment as to what he was doing. Who knew what Dutch might have been thinking in that fleeting moment? Rock couldn't have guessed at this even if he tried. Although on the other hand, he didn't feel like trying anyway.

_What the hell am I supposed to say to her_? _I can't even believe I'm doing this. Maybe she'll take the gesture for what it is_? _Ah shit_! _What am I thinking_?

Whatever his previous thoughts were on this chosen course of action, none of them really mattered much at this stage. He had made his choice and the consequences of that ambiguous path were about to be made clear to him, one way or another.

"Hey, Revy," Dutch called, moving to the bar and taking a seat to her left.

"Oh," she snapped up from her conversation. "Hi boss man."

Benny moved off to Dutch's left, which just left Rock's seat beside Revy. He couldn't turn back now; the stage was set and apparently so was he, either to succeed in whatever the hell he was trying to do or fall flat on his face, probably breaking most of his teeth in the process. All he could think was that this was a mistake.

He took his seat next to her. She then swung herself to the right, looking straight at him.

"Rock… Jesus fuck!"

He sat perfectly still, breathless and frozen as she said the words. He saw the sharp gaping of Revy's eyes at the sight of him. He watched as she looked over his torso, to the one thing that he had once sworn that his skin would never have the misfortune of making any contact with, preferably for as long as he still had the good fortune of breathing the fresh air of the living.

Rock suddenly felt smothered, exposed, like a blinding beacon to every questionable pare of eyes that littered the Yellow Flag's contempt drenched interior. Revy's stare had enlarged her eyes to a whole new size as she speechlessly viewed his appearance in the Hawaiian shirt. And then she erupted into an almost lunatic fit of laughter.

"Shit!" she gasped, belting out short barks of hyena-like cackling. "Y-you, you know, you know what Rock," she only just managed to force words out as she struggled to breath. "You… you were right all along. Oh fuck me that's a bad look!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there had been a part of him that thought she might just take that gesture. He couldn't believe what a fool he had been for allowing any part of him to believe it. Revy face had turned a bright shade of red from her laughter, whilst Dutch and Benny simply remained silent, looking over to Rock with something resembling pity.

Rock felt near broken by her response. After all the nagging about the shirt and this was her reaction, one that he guessed he deserved. However none of that made this experience anymore easy to deal with.

Revy's amusement didn't look to be ceasing any time soon. Rock embarrassingly let his head fall; he waved Bao over with as much enthusiasm as he would manage, which wasn't much.

Drinking himself into the ground seemed to be the only other option. It was either that or turn and leave. But after Revy's outburst he just couldn't deal with the looks he'd receive on his way out the door. Best I keep my back to the onlookers, he thought, who probably found the shirt as distasteful as he did.

"Glad I could do something to make you happy," he said, and was surprised at how bitter his voice sounded.

_Everything feels like its coming apart_, he thought. He wondered if there was anything he could put back together anymore?

* * *

><p><em>Again, I hope you liked this tiny chapter. Please let me know what you think, and I'll do the best I can to get chapter 4 out as soon as possible. Bye for now.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_ Wow, I updated this quite fast. I wasn't sure if I'd be finished this soon, but here it is. I hope you guys enjoy it. Hopefully it won't disappoint.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Forever Changed <strong>

**Chapter IV**

There was nothing that Eda could think of, no reason at all, as to why she had to be called out to this place. Maybe it was always going to turn out this way, she thought? If she had a choice in the matter, she'd have gladly paid any kind of price to avoid this encounter.

_Too late now,_ she thought. _I should have just stayed the hell away._

This was unavoidable however. There was nothing she could say or do to keep herself from setting foot on the island, a small stretch of land a few miles out from Roanapur; hopefully she wouldn't be missed, and with some measure of good fortune no one would notice her short trip. It wasn't far enough from the city that someone wouldn't be watching. She had to be careful, for more reasons than one.

Truthfully, she should have seen this – should have known that things would come to this eventually. Roanapur had been on the brink of utter madness for some time; she knew that all it would take was for one small thing to go horribly wrong, something that would give things that final nudge over the edge. When the time came anarchy the likes of which even Roanapur's worst had never seen would take hold and infect everything around them. The stability that the Russians and the Chinese had so far held together was about to slip through their fingers.

Oddly enough, if Eda could have done anything to prevent it she would have. But that was beyond her reach of power to accomplish. All that she could hope to do now was get this over with and then get out of the way before the boiling pot erupted in everyone's faces.

The sun was now hanging low; it bathed the sandy shore of the island in a harbinger-like crimson. It felt to her like a terrible sign of things to come.

She stepped away from the boat, making her way toward a small patch of trees near the island's centre. The place was small, and appeared completely empty of human activity. But Eda knew better. Claudia had called her there, during that long phone conversation that should never have happened. Everything that the woman had wanted to been arranged over the phone, so Eda hadn't a clue as to what she could want from a face to face. Knowing Claudia, Eda had the feeling that she wouldn't see it coming.

She still didn't understand what was driving the woman this time. Why would The Pack have reassembled now? Why in Roanapur? Who were they gunning for, she wondered? Were they active again just for the sheer joy of violence, or was someone else behind their re-emergence?

All speculation aside, she was fairly certain that she wouldn't receive the full story from Claudia, but hopefully she might learn something, perhaps just enough to that she could at least come out of this situation in one piece.

_Or maybe that's too much to hope for._

Ditching her typical outfit and throwing on her skirt and clingy pink vest top was something she had done without a single thought before leaving; everyone knew her as the nun, and if anyone did in fact spot her during this trip she didn't want to attract any more attention then was needed.

If word got back to Balalaika, or anyone else, then whatever The Pack was doing could be compromised. The last thing she wanted was to have those lunatics coming after her. Nothing could possibly ruin her life more than that. Even her own government couldn't keep Claudia and her bunch under control; this was a group who had killed and eluded every last operative or combined force sent after them. If things didn't go to Eda's likings, then getting out fast was the only option.

_Run. Run, and hope that I can live out the next few days in relative peace before I lose my fucking head. And just when I thought this day was going so well._

Still, she guessed there were worse ways to spend the evening, like listening to Revy wine and bitch on about Rock. Eda wondered when that vulgar booze killing gunslinger was just going to bang his brains out and get it over with. Strangely enough she regretted not being able to warn Lagoon about what was on the way. Sadly they would have to stay on the sinking ship when it went down. There wasn't anything she could do about that, not without risking exposure.

There was a part of her that hoped that Rock might have the good sense to get away before things went straight to hell. He was by no means stupid; that was obvious. But something was keeping him in Roanapur, something that could be his undoing. The man wasn't like anyone else in the city; he didn't belong, no matter how hard he tried to fit into the frothing cesspit that had laid down any morality it might have had a long time ago, the very cesspit Rock called home. He didn't deserve to go down like everyone else. But again, there was nothing she could do, at least nothing she could think of.

_Oh well. It's the way of the world I guess. The innocent suffer along with the guilty. It's not right and it's not pretty, but that's just the way things work. Always has been, always will be._

Eda finally reached the cluster of trees; the interior was drenched in shadows, but there existed enough sunlight still that she could make out a shape deep within the vegetation. A woman sat low, possibly on a tree stump; she couldn't tell if it was definitely a stump, but that short mess of scarlet hair was unmistakable, even after so long.

Claudia – pack leader, code name: Red Wolf – slowly lifted her head at Eda's approached. She suspected that Claudia had heard her before she ever reached the trees, and despite herself she felt the quickening of her pulse.

She kept her Glock holstered. Something told her that she wouldn't be drawing the gun at any point during this meeting, though she couldn't be certain of that. However she knew that if Claudia wanted her dead she wouldn't have bothered to call her out, nor would she have to seek her help in the first place. It wasn't much, but it was a card she could play, and if it kept her alive then she would go ahead and play it to her last breath.

The bright green of Claudia's eyes glimmered in the failing light, a smile formed across her thin lips as she stared back at Eda.

"I can't say I like your outfit," she said rather casually. "Not really suitable for a sister of the good lord."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" Eda said.

"I suppose you're right, of course," Claudia stood up, revealing her impressive physique and height. "You wouldn't want any nosy types hanging around. No one needs to know what you're really up to."

"Should I be worried about that?"

"I shouldn't think so, not unless you're thinking of stabbing me in the back. But I have a feeling that you wont."

Eda raised a finger, straightening out her shades. She held her place as the red haired commander moved closer, slow collected strides that reeked of confidence.

Even after all this time it appeared that Claudia had kept herself in strict training. She wore all black; worn looking trousers covered her legs, with military boots laced tightly all the way up. A light Kevlar vest hugged her muscled build; the sleeves of her black top beneath were rolled up to the elbows, her forearms rippled with strength as she folded them over her chest.

Only a member of The Pack could look so dangerously in shape after such a long break from the field, Eda thought. That was assuming they had remained inactive. If Claudia and her people had operated in any other part of the world since their vanishing then she certainly hadn't gotten word of it. She was certain that she would have been told. Unless of course, the brass didn't know themselves.

_How couldn't the CIA know of her activities_? _Maybe because these people are ghosts._

"So, what's the game plan here, Claudia?"

"The game plan? Can't I just call an old friend for a friendly talk?"

Eda rolled his eyes. "I think 'friend' might be stretching things just a tad. Even back then we weren't exactly the best of buds."

"True," Claudia said, smiling. "But you were there at the beginning; if anyone should understand me, it should be you, Eda. You were always closest to me in the programme."

Eda wondered then, just how much of the Claudia she knew even existed anymore? This woman may have had Claudia's appearance, but her expression, the way she carried herself without force but with so much ease, was all together different. Even her phrases and mannerisms seemed to have changed. Eda couldn't help but think that the Red Wolf hated her, but wasn't entirely sure as to why.

"I already told you: I had nothing to do with what happened back then."

"Well, that's only half true, isn't it?"

"No, it's the whole truth!" Eda felt her skin prickling with heat. "You dug your own hole. There was nothing I could do?"

"Nothing you were willing to do."

"Claudia– "

Claudia unfolded her arms, letting them come to rest at her sides. Eda saw the clenching and unclenching of her fists, and her hand came dangerously close to reaching for her gun.

"Listen," Eda said. "The package has been scheduled to arrive tomorrow. There's no reason for this to– "

"Tell me, Eda," Claudia interrupted. "Are you enjoying yourself here? Has that city tainted you even further? Do you even know why you're here anymore?"

"I haven't forgotten. I'm sure you know all the details by now."

"In fact I've only recently been looking into it," Claudia's face darkened as the sun sank further, though the emerald of her eyes remained strangely unchanged. "I imagine the 14K and Hotel Moscow would prove valuable little pets of our government, as long as they could be controlled," her eyes suddenly narrowed sharply. "Or should I say, as long as the Russians can be controlled. The Chinese aren't really the problem currently, are they? We'll get to Mr Chang in a moment though."

The muscles in Eda's face pulled tight. "As long as Balalaika keeps her warmongering in her own back yard– "

"And what was Japan exactly? Not really a local affair, was it?"

_Just how long has this bitch _really_ been watching all of us_?

"Is that what this is all about?" Eda asked, trying to force something specific into the open.

"I didn't say anything of the sort," Claudia replied with a shake of her head. "I was just pointing out the overextension of Hotel Moscow's reach these days, especially within the Roanapur branch. They do seem rather energetic at the moment. I think I can relate; it's not easy sitting on you ass with no meat to sink your teeth into."

"So that's it?" Eda said. "Purpose? That's what dragged you out of the shadows?"

Was there even a grand scheme behind Claudia's actions, Eda wondered? She could have laughed, if Claudia's appearance hadn't placed her on the deadly tightrope that might see the end of her. Eda would have to play things safe if she didn't want to mess things up. Calling Langley would be a colossal mistake, as the woman standing in front of her knew everything about her past. The only way to eliminate the newly placed handicap would be to kill the Red Wolf where she stood. However Claudia was The Pack leader for a reason: because she was practically the incarnation of butchery and malicious brilliance. She was walking death.

"Perhaps. But there's a lot of money involved as well. Me and mine aren't the only one's benefiting from this little adventure."

Eda couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Just a desperate bunch looking for a few thrills, with some incentive of course," Claudia chuckled. "That reminds me, I have another request."

Whilst biting her lower lip, Eda asked herself if she was really ready to go along with everything that Claudia wanted from her. When she stopped to examine her choices it seemed that they had all been used up. There was nothing she could say to her superiors back home, as certain things she had herself been involved in years ago could come to light, things that Claudia no doubt possessed every detail of. Couple that with how dangerous The Pack was and there was no room left to breath, let alone move.

"A request?"

Claudia smirked. "It helps if you think of it that way."

"Why didn't you tell me this over the phone?" Eda felt her unease continue to grow.

"Because I wouldn't have been able to have this face to face with an old friend. I thought you were paying attention," Claudia sighed. "I hope you can remember all of this; I'd hate for you to screw it up when you call Mr Chang."

Eda could have gasped, but she didn't. "Holey shit, Claudia! What the hell– "

"Don't stress over it," Claudia said. "Now, a few friends of yours had a brush with a small band of mercenaries earlier today. Mr Chang should already know about this due to his receiving a package from said company."

It was too late, Eda realised. Lagoon had already managed to stumble into the strengthening maelstrom. She wondered if they would have any idea of what was coming down on their heads?

"What the hell has Lagoon Company got to do with this?" she asked.

"I just told you. They've probably already relayed details to Chang, but a few extra tid bits might be useful. So, I want you to repeat this, word for word."

* * *

><p>Rock wasn't sure how much more he could take. The world had dimmed all around him, but at the same time it remained harsh and alive. A thousand tiny pinpricks jabbed away at his sinking mood as time slowed; it prolonged his pain at the knowledge that Revy had barely spoken to him all night.<p>

He didn't know how many drinks he'd pored into himself; he'd lost count a while back, and now a thick mist had been draped over his brain, clogging all positive thought, cutting rational examination off in its tracks. All that he could think was that he would give anything to make things better. If only he knew how.

Darkness had swept its hand over the city a couple of hours ago; the bar was awash with sounds and images that he could barely separate. A part of him thought that it was because he was already drunk, but the truth was that he'd been subdued within his own self-pity and frustration since Revy's earlier outburst. _That laugh_, he thought. The laugh, when she first saw him wearing the fabric monstrosity of blues and oranges, was still the most prominent sound inside his aching head.

His attention had been drawn toward her all night, and from what he could see Revy would fall into long silences of drinking, then would suddenly come up for air with a brief exchange of words with either Dutch or Benny or Bao. She had spoken a handful of words to Rock, none of which were friendly.

_Things have gone backwards._

This had conjured up a memory, brining him back to another difficult time between them. Inside the German U-boat. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but he remembered that day so clearly, even if he wished he could file it away in some cerebral cabinet of the forgotten.

Revy had given off waves of hostility, just laying under the layer of her quiet tone; she had been like a predator, just waiting to pounce at Rock if he so much as inched to the left or right. He had been a foreign object that she somehow felt threatened by. He had known all too well what had been on her mind at the time: she wanted to kill him. She had even threatened him with that very act if he ever took the moral high ground with her again. Fortunately for him he had lived to see another day, and the many days and weeks and months that followed it.

The glimmer that had shown in her eyes on the deck of the Lagoon a few hours ago – when he had guiltily helped her out of the water – had without a doubt presented such an element, prowling beneath the dark layers of what made her tick. It resembled the way she had looked at him on the sub, but with two startling differences. Rock could only truly comprehend one of them at this time, as he sat there, deep in attempted thought.

The first was the easy one: he and Revy were friends, of a sort at the very least; more than once had she gone far out of her way to help him when he had been confronted with misfortune, dragging him out of the ashes of whatever damnation crossed his lively path, He couldn't lie, especially to himself; some of those situations had been of his very own creation. _When one willing walks into the fire, they are going to get burned, one way or another. _Rock had been lucky enough so far in that the flames hadn't so much as singed him, because Revy had always protected him – from others and from himself. She had been there for him when everyone else would have shrugged and turned a blind eye. She had put herself in mortal danger for his sake time and time again.

_And what have I ever done for her in return_? _Have I ever really thanked her for these acts of charity_?

She didn't owe him anything. But she had been good to him in her own way, even if she would never admit it. He wasn't a fighter, not in the physical sense of the word, and he suspected that he never would be. Revy had no obligation to him, but still she was there, by his side. He didn't fully understand what this meant, which brought him back to the other thing: she had appeared hurt by his comment on the boat; about the shirt she bought for him, the shirt he was now wearing. He couldn't think of why, but nevertheless, it had happened. He had seen her face, and the way she seemed to blanket her reaction with her usual bravado. How much of it was in fact bravado, he wondered? And how much was real? His answer to the latter: maybe a lot.

But still, there had been something there, suffocated under the chaos behind her slouching body, hiding, afraid to come out and admit its own existence for fear that it might drown in the evils around it. Some part of her was still human – still a person. Rock it was real, he just knew it; buried somewhere out of sight, from the glare of the hateful world she had been born into.

One way or another, he had to talk to her. He had to make her listen to him, and understand that he was sorry. Even if she didn't want him to say the words, he had to make her hear. It might invite more of her scorn towards him, but he would try anyway.

"Hey listen, Revy?" he said.

The Lagoon's gunslinger turned her head. Rock prepared himself as she swung around to look at him, only to be interrupted when he felt something bump against his shoulder. Turning away from her, he looked to see a young woman standing at the bar on his right.

"Sorry about that, luv," she said to him, before looking off to Bao. "Bacardi, straight."

Rock heard Revy sigh, going back to her drink rather than asking him what he wanted. Oddly enough he didn't take his eyes off the woman, a woman who appeared to be Asian, possibly even Chinese, he thought. She had long black hair, tied back by a simple band. Her skin was pale, and her eyes sharp, swimming with a light grey that painted her eastern features in a shade of the unique.

There was something strange about her, as she stood there, waiting for her drink. Rock couldn't help looking because of this nagging feeling; he couldn't help thinking that she was wrong somehow. It was as if she didn't fit, even if her eyes betrayed a sort of vicious instinct beneath her casual exterior. He had never seen her in town before. She definitely wasn't a local. However while she did indeed look like she belonged in the streets of Roanapur, there was still something about her that seemed different.

The simple and yet efficient way she seemed to hold herself as she stood at the bar; there was a shocking ease to it all, but also a subtle promise of pain beneath the surface. She was a fighter. Rock picked up on this almost immediately. But what was it, he wondered, that niggled away at him? It wasn't that instant in which she apologised to him, which was in itself a miracle for this town. There was something else, and no matter how hard he tried, Rock just couldn't break through the initial barrier that surrounded that mystery.

"Can I do something for you?" the woman said.

He had been locked so deeply in thought that at first he didn't realise that she was speaking to him. Slowly he shook himself free of his own pointless wanderings. The woman looked back at him expectantly, although she didn't appear to be angry at his staring, or even confused by it.

"Err… sorry, miss," he said.

"Miss?" she repeated. "Wow, you don't seem local. What's a polite young man like you doing here of all places?"

Rock was left with not knowing what to say at first; the minor fact that her British accent hit his senses with a glaring sharpness – one that didn't seem to match her delicate tone – was all together lost on him for a short time.

"I… sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to be rude."

"I didn't think you did," she responded politely. "But you _were _looking at me. Can I ask what you found so interesting? You looked lost in thought just now."

"Sorry– "

"Will you stop apologising?"

Rock heard Revy make a gagging sound, and he felt himself almost saying the words again as he tried to ignore it. He was overcome with a sudden rush of heat that filled his face, a heat that was followed quickly by a smirk that struck the young woman's angelic features.

"I've never seen you around here before," he said.

"Well that might have something to do with me never setting foot in this bar until now," she replied as she paid for her drink, gripping her glass in her right hand. "So, you don't look like much of a cutthroat type."

"I imagine that's pretty obvious, miss," he said.

"Just a bit."

"You _do _though – no offence. But you're not, are you? Local, I mean."

"You seem quite sure of that."

"You just… seem, like you came from somewhere else," Rock paused. "You fit this place, but at the same time you still look like you just got here. Again, no offence to you, miss."

The woman laughed. "I can't imagine why I'd be offended by that," she stopped talking long enough to knock back half her glass; she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, and despite himself Rock could help but linger on that action for a moment. "You're a bright one, aren't you? You seem to notice things that most wouldn't."

Revy chuckled from his left, and a sting pained his chest as he tried to push those previous thoughts out. The memory of their now strained friendship fought for supremacy, but strangely enough all he wanted at this moment was to set it aside, as just the thought that she hated him right now was too much to linger on for even the briefest of times.

"Well, I don't know about that," he replied, running a hand over the back of his head.

"No, no, it's an innate talent that few people have," she said. "Believe me, I know. And yes, to satisfy your curiosity, I have just arrived here."

Rock cleared his throat. "If you'll pardon me for asking, but what could you want here? It's not exactly the friendliest of places."

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by Revy's stone sober voice. "What my partner here is trying to say, hun, is that not many folks come to this little lion's den for a vacation. There are plenty of other less colourful ways to get yourself killed. So either you're looking for a bullet to the head, or you're here to feed led to someone else."

_What the hell is going on with her_, he thought? _And isn't she usually halfway drunk by now_?

Rock kept his silence, watching as the woman looked over to Revy; her large eyes seemed to skim over his partner, looking her up and down for a few seconds.

"Just looking for some people," she said. "That's all."

Revy chuckled. "So, the second one then?"

"If you say so," the woman said, her eyes filling so abruptly with a coldness that actually made Rock flinch. "I'm fairly sure not everyone is the same as you."

"Just the ones that want to live a little longer," Revy growled.

"Hmmm," the woman appeared to Rock to be thinking this exchange over for a second or two. "Then I wonder if my stay might be shorter than I thought? But perhaps this city might surprise me, and I'll be here a while? But I doubt it."

"Whatever," Revy, clearly bored, brought her hand up in a shooing motion as she turned back to her own glass, which Rock found surprisingly full. "Good luck with breathing past this week, hun."

"Same to you," the woman replied. She then finished her rum before looking back at Rock. "Anyway, I thick I'm supposed to be somewhere else at this moment. It was nice meeting you… Mr– "

"Okajima," he said, extending his hand. "Rokuro Okajima. But people call me Rock."

"Rock?" she said his name as if she were tasting the word, savouring it somehow. "It sort of fits, I suppose. My name's Lin, Lin Zhang," she then stepped away from the bar, looking back at him as she began to leave. "Make sure you don't sink before you find whatever it is you're looking for. See you around, Rock."

And then she was gone, vanished as quickly as she had appeared, like a fleeting fog that never was. And the next few seconds were followed by Rock wondering at what she had meant with her last words. And then Revy broke his thoughts to pieces.

"Stupid bitch. I give her two hours before somebody skull fucks her to death in some alley. Tourists."

"Revy," Rock sighed loudly, feeling the stirrings of a serious migraine.

"And what was with you?" Revy barked. "Drooling all over her like some love-sick teenage bitch? God, if I fuckin' cared enough I would have blown her fuckin' head off."

Rock's previous please for forgiveness seemed to sink, as his temporarily sobered mind fell back into sluggish emotion. He felt his grip on his drink tighten, just before the glass began to crack.

"If you don't care then what are you so mad about, Revy? Why are you even talking about it at all?"

Revy slammed her palm against her forehead. "Aggh! Give me a fuckin' break."

"And I wasn't drooling over anyone," he said. "What the hell's going on with you today?"

"You wanna know what's going on, Rock?" she asked, her eyes going wide. "You wanna know? I've had it up to here with being treated like you're fuckin' doormat, ya asshole!"

"Ok," Dutch pushed away from the bar. "I've gotta make a call to Chang. You two try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

Dutch disappeared out back, whilst Benny seemed to shrink away from Revy, who at this point was shaking with anger.

"My doormat?" Rock's oncoming frown was already splitting his head. "What are you talking about? What did I do– "

"Well maybe your small brain didn't hang on to that little piece of info, Rock, but you could try to remember that you knocked me into the fuckin' ocean a few hours ago!" she stood from her stool. "If you could watch what you were doing for two whole seconds it never would have happened, ya clumsy fuck-tard!"

The entire bar seemed to fall into silence as the heated exchange continued, all eyes watching the pair with growing curiosity, no doubt waiting to see what would happen next.

Rock had come to the Yellowflag with nothing but the best intentions, only now things had somehow rotated in the opposite direction. He couldn't keep his newfound anger from coming to the surface, regardless of what the cost might be. All the while he felt that crack in his heart growing wider with every passing second, as the thing he cherished slipped further away.

"That is complete bullshit, Revy!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! You were in a fucked up mood before that ever happened and you know it. Maybe its because I didn't want to wear this hideous fucking shirt, which I'm now wearing, only to have you act like a total bitch a… " he trailed off, realising what he'd said.

_What the hell_? _I've never called her that before. Why did I say that_?

Revy's mouth gaped as widely as her eyes. For a few seconds no words were spoken. And then Revy's fist came down, shattering her glass to dripping shards as they ripped into her hand, splattering alcohol and dots of blood across the bar.

"Hey, what the fuck, Revy!" Bao yelled, but was completely ignored.

Revy's eyes lethally narrowed at Rock. "What did you just call me?"

"Hey guys, seriously," Benny bravely cut in. "Let's not– "

"Benny," Revy said, grinding her teeth, never taking her eyes off of Rock. "If you don't wanna eat through a fuckin' straw, I'd shut that mouth of yours, right now."

"Don't take it out on him!" Rock snapped. "All you do is give people a hard time."

_After all this time, nothing's changed at all._

He had tried to appeal to her, to make up for his reluctance to wearing the shirt, and for knocking her off the boat after the merc attack. In the entire time he'd known her, all he wanted was to be tolerated, to be accepted. But nothing he could say would work its way through. Things had reverted back to square one.

But perhaps they hadn't, a part of him thought?

_She would have shot me for saying that._

Revy didn't speak, nor did she move, to do anything that resembled her typical reactions to the things that annoyed or enraged her. All she did was stand there, as her hand bled into the floor. She looked back at him with a creasing expression of something that he thought to be hatred. He would later realise that it was something else entirely. He would have apologished, but he knew it would do no good. It never did.

"I've got no idea what's happening here, Revy. But I can't keep doing this." Rock turned, leaving Revy at the bar as he staggered toward the doors.

"Rock," Benny called, clearly concerned. "Where are you going?"

"Going to sleep off my headache." He passed through the doors and into the street.

He got several feet down the sidewalk before coming face to face with a familiar person, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Though the massive swell of emotion that was slowly choking him kept him from realising who it was at first.

"Hey, Rock?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face.

His thoughts cleared just enough to acknowledge her. " …Eda."

She pulled a brief half smile, placing her hands on her hips. "My, my, Romeo. You look like you could use another drink."

* * *

><p><em>Well, that's it for now. I hope you liked it. Hopefully an update won't be long - fingers crossed. Bye for now.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter is a bit longer than the others I've done so far. But I really hope you guys enjoy it. Aside from this being a hobby, it's you guys I write this story for, so thank you for your support!_

_**Disclaimer:** Black Lagoon is the property of _Rei Hiroe. _I do not own it or any of its characters, other than my OC's in this fic._

* * *

><p><strong>Forever Changed<strong>

**Chapter V**

Rock wasn't sure how long had passed since he first entered the chapel of the Rip-Off church. Everything felt as if it had stopped. Time no longer mattered to him in the way it might have the day before. Unfortunately everything had changed since the morning.

Eda poured him another bourbon from her seat at the table. She sat there, dressed in her usual nun garb, her Glock holstered under her arm as always. Rock barely watched her however, but instead couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of the old wooden panels that made up the floor of the large chapel. He'd seen enough with his brief glances now and then.

_What am I doing here_?

Honestly, he wasn't sure what Eda wanted with him this time, but he guessed it didn't have much to do with her usual batch of flirtatious remarks. In fact he had never been to the Rip-Off church without Revy in tow.

_Revy…_

Even in his half subdued state from his earlier drinking, he still found himself wondering what Eda was up to? He didn't know why, but he picked up on something specific in her actions, and a part of him didn't like that look in her eyes, the one she thought her pink shades might hide. Perhaps she didn't think he would see it? Perhaps she thought he was an idiot? And he had no intention of calling her out. Suspicions aside, he knew it wouldn't be a good idea.

"Something bothering you, sailor?"

Rock looked up. "Sorry Eda. What was that?"

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. "Well, its not like we haven't got any time to kill; the night is still young."

Rock blinked a few times, trying to sharpen the sanded down corners of his brain for a moment.

"I guess I can't argue with that."

"So," Eda said, sliding his refilled glass back to him. "What's eating you up, handsome? And while we're at it, what's with that damn ugly shirt you're wearing?"

Rock had forgotten that he was wearing the shirt, the fabric nightmare of regurgitated colours that now hung pathetically over his slim frame. But now that Eda had mentioned it, he had to take a moment to look down at himself, and what he saw was ridiculous. It was strange to think of it the way he was, but he now saw the shirt as an unwanted skin, a remnant of the terrible night he'd had so far, and that he'd rather forget all together. He would have torn the shirt from his body there and then, but with Eda sitting just across from him that was in no way an option.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Which part?" she asked. "About the shirt, or about what's bothering you? You look like someone just stole your Cadillac and drove it into the river."

"Its nothing," Rock said.

Eda laughed. "Well if you don't want to talk then why did you come back here with me? Besides, that booze you're chucking down isn't free ya know. So you might as well spill it, baby."

Rock felt a slight bitterness slowly creeping up on him. He wondered how Eda would react if he were to tell her everything? Would she laugh herself to death? Maybe, he thought. He took the bourbon and chucked down half the glass in one gulp, wiping his lips with his other hand as the events of the past few hours played through his mind once again.

"So, it's either talk or pay up? Is that right?"

"Makes things more interesting, doesn't it?" Eda leaned forward, keeping her face propped up by one hand, as her fingers cradled her jaw line. "So how about it, Rocky baby?"

"I don't know where to start."

"How about the beginning?"

"Eda… "

"Ok, ok," she raised her free hand. "Serious though, what is the– "

"I called Revy a bitch."

He was certain that for possibly ten seconds, a pin could have been heard plummeting to the ground. Eda didn't say anything in response to what he had just told her, nor did he continue with his intended story; he watched as the nun's mouth hung open for a time, the astonishment clear as a halo as she looked back at him without saying a word.

A single corner of her mouth curled up ever so faintly, just before she took a swig of her own drink. She then looked at Rock with some strange mingling of amusement and – Rock wasn't entirely sure but he thought he had caught it for just a second – pity.

"Boy, there's sure been some trouble in paradise since we last saw each other."

Rock blinked. "Trouble in paradise?"

"So, how'd she take that?"

"Badly," he paused with a sigh. "It all started this morning. We were attacked by some mercenaries on our way back from a job for Mr Chang."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that."

_You heard about it_?

"I accidentally knocked her into the ocean when we were out on deck," Rock slammed his face into his palm, his eyes squinting against the headache that was steadily getting worse. "I tried to make things up to her earlier. That turned out to be a mistake. We had this big fight at the Yellowflag and I stormed out. Shit, I've really made a mess of all of this!"

Eda tapped her fingers against her cheek, as a faint chuckle poured out of her. Rock wasn't sure what was on her mind at present, as her apparent amusement seemed almost like a mask to shield something else.

"Yeah, you definitely sound a little bruised over it," she said.

He frowned. "How can I not be?"

"I guess. But truth be told, Rock, I'm not sure if I've got the kind of advice you're looking for."

"Eda, I wasn't– "

"Revy's not the kind of girl who'd accept a marriage proposal, so I really don't know what to say, other than you're a brave son of a bitch," she laughed again. "Of all the people to fall head over heels for."

Rock felt the shock enter his veins like ice water. His mouth gaped open as he stared at Eda, the contents of his brain unable to conjure a solid response for what felt to him like an eternity. Apparently her observations were keener than he thought. But then again, she probably hadn't knocked half as much booze into herself as he had.

"How did you– "

"Oh come on, Rocky," she said, sitting up straight. "It doesn't take much up top to see what's been bugging you. Even a blind man could figure it out. So how long have you been making googly eyes at Two Hands?"

_Why am I talking about this_? _Googly eyes_?_ This is a fucking nightmare. Why should I have to feel this way when it's pointless_?

Rock didn't want to say any more, but unfortunately he had reached a point where he didn't think it mattered any longer. He was near positive that Eda would at some point exchange words with Revy, and then the real shit-storm would come knocking at his door. But he was too drained to hold back. At this moment in time, he just didn't care.

"She doesn't know," he said.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't think there's anything I _can _do. She's been acting sort of weird lately anyway." Rock sighed again, and then emptied his glass, trying his best to savour the warmth that clung to his throat and chest.

"Is that so?" Eda raised an eyebrow. "Weird, how?"

"She hasn't been coming down on me as hard lately for one thing. I'd say we've actually been friends for a while now. Even when I seem to piss her off, she either shrugs it off or… this morning for instance; I made some comment, and she looked almost like," he paused. "She seemed stung by it, as if I had really hurt her feelings or something. But now she's acting just like she used to, back when I first joined with Lagoon. It was like she wanted me as far away from her as possible."

He couldn't believe he was telling Eda these things. Normally the thought would never have crossed his mind; the very idea of confiding in someone that he didn't entirely trust seemed ridiculous. He couldn't say for certain why he didn't trust Eda. But there was a vibe she sometimes gave off during her advances to him, and the way she sometimes spoke to Revy; it was almost as if she were trying too hard to conceal something else. It had forced him to wonder on more than one occasion at just what her true motives were for being in Roanapur?

"Rock," Eda's amusement withdrew, and her features took on a more neutral shade. "So you called her a bitch during the little fight of yours, right?" Rock nodded. "And she didn't blow your brains out - didn't knock you senseless. That's got to tell you something, in case you haven't picked up on it already. I would have thought you were smart enough to see that on your own, sailor. You never wondered, not even once, why she's so defensive when I put the moves on your handsome self?"

Confusion suddenly replaced all else inside Rock's head. "Eda, what do you mean– "

"But you've got to remember something else, Rock," she went on. "No matter what fleeting thoughts and feelings a wolf might have in the moment, it's still just a predator, stalking the wilds for its next kill. That isn't something that they've chosen; it's in their blood, as natural to them as breathing is to you. You can't just wean predators off their diet and have them change their nature just to suit you. Revy's been at this a long time. Killers don't change, Rock, at least none I've ever come across. So don't be surprised if it doesn't work out."

Rock didn't need a lesson into the minds of killers. He trod through that death dealing swamp every day. He worked with a killer. Revy was indeed a killer. The people of Roanapur were killers, plus an assortment of other things that he was certain he would never become. That was just who he was, and he accepted it, just as he had accepted Revy. She was family to him now. She was his friend. She was…

He was convinced of one thing: there was no confusion when it came to this, his feelings for Revy. He knew that they were real. He hadn't chosen any of this, but there it was all the same, clear and blinding as a rising sun. It twisted his thoughts along with his guts, causing heartbreak at the knowledge that some things were just never meant to be.

_But what did Eda mean_? _Was she just making conversation_, _or had Revy really been acting defensively for his sake_?

"I know what she is, Eda," he said. "But… there's something else as well. I'd be dead by now if there wasn't."

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Eda replied, and there was a long silence before she spoke again. "Let me ask you this: how long do you really plan on staying in this fucked up city."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't honestly expect me to believe that you're planning to stay here for the rest of your life, Rock? You know just as well as I do that this isn't a good place. People come in at one end and shit comes out the other, eventually anyway. Anyone who stays here long enough will end up just like that – worm food and nothing else."

Rock tapped at the empty glass with his fingers, staring down at the table. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Go somewhere else. Have a life while you still can. It isn't too late, and you know it."

"I… can't."

"Is it her?"

"Revy?"

"Yeah. Is she the reason you won't leave? It's not like you've got much in common with the scumbags in this dump, so don't tell me its your calling in life to become some hardened crook at the edge of the world. If this city is a jigsaw puzzle, then you're the piece that doesn't fit, sweetie pie."

_Maybe you're a piece from another box as well_?

He met her eyes again. He couldn't help but wonder at what she was really trying to say. "And what about you? Is this what you always pictured for yourself?"

Eda smiled. "My future was sealed a long time ago, Romeo. There's no other path out there for me, just like everyone else in this city. Sometimes I think I'm just as fucked as the rest of them. But you've still got a chance. You could get out now, do the things you always wanted to do, whatever they might be."

"Sadly, Eda, there's only one thing I want right now."

"That's kinda mushy, Rock."

"Tell me about it."

"You _should _consider leaving," Eda said. "You're still a decent guy. But this place can change people. A person's only as good as the their environment allows them to be. Try to make sure you know what you want to be before settling down."

"Some people say that I'm already on my way," Rock replied. "All I've been concerned with all this time is my own moral code, throwing it in people's faces time and time again. Even the people closest to me have felt it. And now I finally see what matters, what's right in front of me, and all I can do is watch as it slips through my fingers."

Eda leaned across the table, refilling Rock's glass before she sank back into her chair. "Maybe you've just got a thing for impossible battles? And maybe that's your whole problem, Rock?"

"Maybe," he said. "But in the end, it's all I've got."

* * *

><p>The streets of New York were what it all began for her. The place had been her bible. It taught her all the ways of human dirt, and of the gun, of blood and smoke. It was there that she had learned to breath, one day at a time. The streets running with red life were where she dwelt. It was her world.<p>

It was still her world. It was where she belonged.

Thinking was nothing but a growing pain, a ravaged wasteland of possible's and impossible's. There were so many things that once made perfect sense, but were now lost, smashed to shards and cast aside, hidden away from her searching eyes. All that was sprawled in front of her now were questions, a myriad of uncertainties that boiled the fury further to its explosive peak. Only the eruption she had expected hadn't taken place. She gave some thought to whether she might fall asleep before it did.

Revy opened the door, moving slowly into the heavily shadowed space of her apartment. A stale odour that she barely noticed anymore, but strangely knew belonged there, filled her nose. It was the smell she lived within forever, since the gutters, since those pale feathers that cruised the air from their previous concealment of the pillow. It was her life and breath. It was in her blood. But blood, even blood as dark as hers, could apparently be diluted to some extent.

"He did this," she said, as she stopped near her bed, looking vacantly down at the rumpled covering.

_He didn't do this._

"He should have just stayed in Japan."

_It's not his fault._

"Then its mine, for letting the jackass stick around."

_It's not your fault either_! _It just _happened.

"Nothing just _happens_."

_Your problem is you always feel better when you've got someone to blame. That's why you're so pissed off right now._

"Shut up."

The world had opened up to her with a slow breeze when she had ejected herself from the Yellowflag, a wind that was surprisingly cool. Though it hadn't done a thing to chill the heat that flooded her body and mind.

Her hand still throbbed, and the pain might have been somewhat suffocated if she had allowed any large supply of alcohol to enter her system. The only problem with such an obvious strategy was this: she had managed to take down only four and a half glasses of Bacardi. During the entirety of her stay this had been all she had cared to pour into herself. Dutch had noticed; she'd seen him glancing over every so often, after she'd returned from the back of the Flag, working her fingers with a needle and thread through the skin of her damaged hand. The wound wasn't too bad, but it hurt like a son of a bitch.

She guessed that Benny must have given Dutch the full report while she was patching herself up. _Stupid blonde techno-dick should mind her own business,_ she thought, when seeing the look that Dutch had given her when she came back. His expression had been neutral enough on the outside, but behind those ever-present sunglasses of his she thought the look might have read something like 'Tomorrow there's gonna be a conversation, girl.'

Normally she would have rolled her eyes at the memory. That look had come her way enough times before after all; the look that signalled that he was anything but happy with her, and at some point he would want an explanation. Maybe Rock would talk, but she was in no good mood to chat with anyone. Her lips were sealed, and if anyone tried to un-seal them, then they'd be catching a one-way trip to oblivion.

_Maybe they'd be luckier. Fuck me_! _What the hell am I supposed to do about this_?

In that moment, as her body turned and she slowly sank onto her bed, she came to the realisation that she knew absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. She didn't know the feelings that had entered her thoughts weeks ago. She didn't know those feelings now, even as they rose to their clearest and most deadly, wafting with alien air across the scarred tissue of past memories, overlapped by new recollections that – until the sharp alarm of understanding hit her full force in the chest – were at one time so much less prominent. They were at their peak now, powerful and all consuming and terrifying.

She didn't know her own heart. And at the same time she did know it. She knew what those stirrings had meant, what they truly meant. She couldn't bring herself to try, to even attempt to physically react to them, even if she knew how.

She hated it, this virgin territory that was assaulting her mind, her certainties of what her life meant to her. The world had changed over night, becoming one titanic grey area that she couldn't even fathom for the life of her. _Maybe it hasn't changed_? _Maybe it's just a big fat lie_? Nevertheless, the world she was currently in had no place for her. She felt like a ghost, haunting a world long abandoned of its so-called clarity.

Within the next few seconds, she had a cigarette dangling from her lips. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, and thought of how they resembled her own mental wanderings. Could she ever truly make sense of what was happening? As she remained in the dark, within the tiny box of her room, she run down the short list of things that she had right in front of her.

_Cracked ceiling, check._

"Blood."

_Broken air conditioning, check._

"Bullets."

_Smashed window blinds, check._

"Blood and bullets."

_What else_?

"Death."

_Bullet riddled walls, check._

"Blood and bullets and death."

_Trash covered floor, check._

"Booze."

_Booze and blood and fuckin' bullets and fuckin' death, check._

"Smokes."

_Smokes and booze and blood and bullets and fuckin' more bullets and death, check_!

"Death. Death. Death. Death. DEATH!"

_Rock._

"Rock… "

So it was official, she thought. She considered herself to be well and truly fucked. A rat's nest of total shit was what she had to hold close. Did she really believe this? Was she out of her body for a moment, looking at the rotting carcass of her own life, looking down on it with pity, with disgust?

"Fuckin' Rock!" she snarled in the dark. "I should… he's a– "

_Shut the hell up for a sec. How is any of this his fault_? _It's not like the idiot knows. It's not like you've told him._

"Oh yeah. And what fuckin' good would it do? What does it even matter in the end?"

_Maybe it _would _matter if you–_

"No!"

_You won't even consider it_? _You want to be the demon all your life_?

"That's what I am."

_Well fuck me Rebecca, you might be right. But maybe you're not all the way right_? _Jesus, its almost like you're two fuckin' people or something. Haha_!_ How retarded is that_?

"Shut up!"

_But then it's not like that, is it_? _You're just a god damn head case is what you are. God only fuckin' knows why he hasn't ditched your sorry ass already._

"Because he'd be fucked without me."

_Or you'd be fucked without him_? _Be honest for two seconds, will you. If he hadn't come along when he did, you really think you'd still be breathing now_?

"I said shut the fuck up!"

_How can you tell _yourself _to shut up_? _You really are a fuckin' mess, Two Hands._

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know, bitch!"

She finally took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing out clouds of smoke as she saw the feathers fluttering about once again, floating throughout the blackened corners of her room. She saw_ him. _She saw the beer bottle, swinging through the air, and the following pain that shattered its way through her head. She recalled it all; the beating she took that night, and the torment of his sick fantasies that soon followed. Even now she felt every sting, every horrible groping touch of his hands. She nearly choked on the memory of it. Even if revenge had been granted her, and it had, nothing could ever sate the burning thirst for long.

It was the way of the world, and the monsters that existed within it. One either became a more dangerous creature, cutting itself away from the leagues of the weak and the powerless, or one was swallowed whole, devoured and forgotten by all.

And then he appeared, the white-collar businessman from Japan, and everything had changed after that. All the various reasons to keep breathing had slowly blurred before her eyes. And now she was truly lost within her own mind. She couldn't even begin to understand how this had happened, how something as insignificant as a remark of disgust towards a shirt could hit her so hard. Why did she even care, she wondered?

_What does it matter why you care_? _You just _do. _So you've got two choices Rebecca: either you kill him, or deal with what you're going through and fuckin' see it through to the end. Win or lose. Seriously, what have you really got to lose anyway_?

"I… "

_Exactly._

"Fuck off! Just fuck off!"

Footsteps. The quiet thudding of boots falling onto stairs. Revy's thoughts were cancelled as her ears perked up, her head snapping towards the door. Someone was sneaking up to her room.

She was still dressed, still wearing her holsters; slowly she drew one of her Cutlass toward the door. Her eyes narrowed as she waited, readying herself to leap from the bed. Her anger only rose at knowing she had a robber coming her way. She couldn't believe it; someone was actually going to try and steal from _her_. It was either that or some idiot looking to make a reputation for themselves by trying to kill the best gun in the city. It wouldn't have been the first time.

_Come on and try then, cocksucker. Your death song's awaitin' right here_!

The footsteps ceased as they reached the door. And for several seconds nothing happened. Revy wondered how someone who moved so loudly could ever think they stood a chance at taking her down? Whoever they were, they were about to learn the hard lesson of what happens when someone crosses paths with a bigger shark in the water.

And then the door came off its hinges, splinters flying through the air as it collapsed into the room.

Bullets skimmed passed her head, blowing out the window behind her as she sprang from the bed. Both 92's were drawn and returning fire as her instincts took over every movement she made.

The first gunman went down as soon as the door collapsed to the ground, a jet of blood shooting out from his neck as he fell to his knees. And then there were two more in the hallway, hiding on either side of Revy's door.

Her current position was a dangerous place to be; she was boxed in, and she knew that her attackers might not be alone. On the other hand her room was still coated in darkness, and the idiots that were now trying to kill her had decided to switch on the light in the hall before kicking her door in. Whoever they were, it didn't take a genius to understand that they weren't exactly the brightest bunch in the world.

Revy found herself almost pitying these people. She stood still, right in front of her bed; ready to move when she needed to. A cool wind brushed against her back from the now destroyed window.

_You bastards are gonna pay for that. You're both gonna be checking out before you touch the ground._

As fused into her murderous zone as she now was, she did however scold herself for not hearing their approach from the street; it was a mistake, a simple one that could have easily got anyone in a city like Roanapur killed. All her dwelling on the past few hours, about Rock, had dulled her instincts by a faint fraction. It wasn't much, but it could have proved to be enough in seeing an end to her.

For a second she considered trying the window, as the duo blind fired into the room. But as she darted to the left she threw the idea out before her next breath. The room was three stories from the ground, and while she had no doubt that she could survive the drop, it would leave her momentarily unguarded from bullets.

_Those two dick-cheeses might have buddies down stairs._

It would be better to take the two down before assessing the situation below. One way or another, she had no intention of backing off; the night had crushed any promise of calm she might have hoped to hold on to, and now she wasn't going to stop until her renewed bloodlust was quenched.

Revy grinned as one of the men abandoned his cover, opening fire with an old M16. She fired off a single round, the bullet puncturing his forehead with a delicious pop before he dropped into a large heap in the doorway.

_Damn. Who the fuck are these guys_? _Killing's definitely not their thing, that's for sure._

"God, fuck!" the last man hissed from his hiding spot.

Revy waited, satisfaction coursing through her veins as she kept her guns raised. The last man didn't leave his cover, but she couldn't mistake the glorious sound of the nervous breaths that rattled their way out of him, almost shuddering through the walls, beckoning her to go forward and rip the life right out of him. In all of this she couldn't prevent her savage smile from widening.

"Come on in, chicken shit," she goaded. "Don't by shy. What's wrong, too rough for you? Bet you go in for those sissy little gentle types huh, all slow and soft? Come on. I've got something for you, baby; it's the best present you've ever had. It's called a big fuckin' hole in the face."

"Fuck you, slut!" he yelled back.

"Awww, don't be frightened," she chuckled. "I bet you and your boyfriends thought you found yourself some easy prey tonight, didn't you? Well fucker, your friends' grey matter is decorating the floor. There's no prey in here. There's only a vicious bitch of a wolf whose gonna bleed the living fuck out of you. You've got no where else to go, little piggy."

She could hear it, the gun shaking in his quivering fingers. Whether he knew it yet or not, whether his grasping hope of survival hadn't yet lost its desperate grip, he was already done. The grim reaper was out in force again, and he was about to collect yet another soul that Two Hands would joyously prepare for him.

No matter what she did or where she travelled, she still enjoyed this, almost hearing some wannabe mad dog idiot piss himself when he realised that he had bitten off more than he could chew and was struck head on with the certainty that his number was up. Some people would just never learn, she thought. Although she could hardly complain about this fact, since the dance of guns and destruction had been her drug of choice for the longest time. She was an addict and made no plans to stop any time soon. She wasn't sure if she could, even if she wanted to.

"What, got nothing to say?" she continued, hoping he would lose his cool and take his chances. "You want me to come out there and introduce you to your fuckin' brain, sugar?"

What happened next was so unexpected that at first Revy didn't move. As it turned out there were in fact other people downstairs. However the one thing that she had been certain of was that they wouldn't have risked killing their own men. She had been wrong about that, and knew it the instant she heard something small coming through the window, bouncing softly onto her bed a microsecond later.

_Oh fuck me_!

Her body began to move before the gaping of her eyes, before the cold gasp that pressed between her parting lips. She was running at fall speed for the door, almost taking off from the ground in the sheer velocity of her strides. The other man was still waiting, but was no doubt soiling himself rather than waiting her out.

The entire time that she had held her guns up she felt her hand ache from its previous injury; it wasn't quite bad enough to throw off her aim, fortunately. Even as she leapt through the doorway – twisting her body sideways in the air and taking aim – her gun never faltered as she fired, forging a large bloody crater out of the eye socket of the unsuspecting imbecile that had frozen himself to the wall outside the room.

And then the explosion arrived; it boomed to life within her room before she ever had the good fortune to touch the ground. Revy was thrown down the hallway. She landed roughly against the uncarpeted floorboards, grazing her elbows with the release of a painful grunt, yelling into the air.

She began to lift her head from the floor. She didn't bother to look behind her; she already knew that her room was completely beyond salvation; the brainless gunmen – if one could ever refer to them as gunmen – had finished the redecoration of what her drunken nights had started some time ago.

_Hell no_! _These guys are gonna pay for that_!

Revy was then on her feet, her steps only shaky for just a second as she raced toward the staircase. She stopped when reaching them, peeking down to the next floor. She knew that if these bastards had any sense they would have to come up to check that their handy work had actually gotten the job done. When they finally decided to reveal themselves she was going to kill them all. No exceptions, no mercy. A blood bath like they had never witnessed was coming their way.

She considered heading back to check the corpses she had just created, to see if their guns were still intact. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the smoking heap of bodies resting just a little way from her door, as grey clouds wafted out from the dark of the room; the blast must have pushed them further into the hall, as it did her. Their weapons were probably still useable. She had already fired off a handful of rounds and had no new mags on her. With any luck their friends – who so far couldn't be heard – wouldn't be too great in their numbers, she thought.

_Ah come on, Rebecca. Since when do things ever go the way you want them to_? _No, that would be too easy_! _Then again, I doubt there's a fuckin' army waiting for you either._

Since the shooting had started she hadn't once given much thought to what these people really wanted. She had her doubts about this being a simple robbery. Someone wanted her dead. She understood that now. They wanted to kill her, and nothing else. So why then, she wondered, had someone sent such utter moronic bottom feeders to do the job? They were the very measure of stupid, making her question the brain behind the so-called operation; they obviously weren't too bright themselves, to throw out such ineptness at a rapid rate.

_Just like those jerk-offs during the boat attack… hmmm_?

The sounds of shooting recaptured her attention, several loud shots burst out from somewhere below. She thought that they were coming from the ground floor.

Revy frowned. "Now what are those clowns up to?" but then realisation struck her fast, when she finally recognised the sounds of a large Smith & Wesson, followed by the wailing of the soon to be dead. "So Dutchy, come to the rescue huh?"

Knowing that the cavalry had arrived got Revy moving again. She bolted back toward her room, ignoring the dancing flicker of small flames within the smoke drenched ruin as she checked over the bodies of the unfortunate mercs. They all seemed to be using the same model of machinegun. She retrieved an undamaged M16 from the ground, and checking its magazine before holstering her Cutlass'; she didn't think there was any sense in wasting her primary weapons just yet.

With that done with, she headed back to the stairs; the cries of gunfire continued; from the sounds of things Revy guessed that Dutch had come prepared, as the powerful eruption of a Remington pounded into her ears. His apartment was only a short distance away, so she guessed that the initial gunfire had been enough to get his attention; he must have figured where the shots were coming from, she thought. Despite her urge to slaughter the remains of her attackers, she knew that having some back up was never a bad thing.

With the stock of the M16 tucked against her shoulder, she raised the weapon as she quickly descended the staircase. She hadn't seen anyone else yet, so she thought that they were all tied up with Dutch's arrival.

_Don't worry boys, because I'm about to add to your shit-storm of problems. Fuckin' A_!

Just then someone entered her view from the bottom of the stairs; a hairless white man, draped in a dark green military style jumpsuit. He saw her just as it became too late, the split second before she ended him with three shots to the chest. He sank to the floor without ever being able to pull the trigger of his gun, drying most pathetically. A regular person might have felt the barest morsel of sympathy for them. Although to Revy, unawareness whilst in the heat of danger was unforgivable.

How many people had ever succeeded in combat because of blind idiocy? The answer was none, she thought. To her, these people deserved whatever happened to travel their way; any person who might decide to shed a tear over their demise was a damn fool.

She hit the bottom of the stairs, leaping over the large heap of a corpse as she came into the hallway of the first floor; the ground floor was still echoing with sounds reminiscent of a war zone. Revy was more than anxious to become a part of the carnage. She moved towards the next stairway, but had to dive to the right as another grimy looking gunman emerged into the hall. He fired off several rounds from a handgun, but she was already out of the path of each bullet. She landed in a light roll, bringing the M16 up ad emptying a short burst into his throat. She watched as he dropped his gun, as blood showered from his destroyed neck; a gargling cry bubbled red from his dying lips as he writhingly hit the floor, struggling for life for a few more seconds before saying goodnight to the mortal coil forever.

"Way too easy," Revy said.

Another man screamed his last below, and Revy was then running again for the ground floor. She stopped just at the bottom of the next stairway; a small lobby area lay off just to the right, out of her current field of vision; it seemed that the remainder of the fight was happening there.

Revy didn't know how many were left, but the sounds of Dutch's shotgun letting out fearsome rounds was enough to get her blood rushing all the more. He was about to kill off the last of them, and the beast inside of her couldn't allow that to happen.

_Sorry boss-man, but that last life belongs to me_!

Poking her head out into the lobby, Revy spotted a number of downed mercs, all marked with open red wounds. The front doors were destroyed, by what appeared to be a great deal of machinegun fire and buckshot.

Another merc was thrown backwards from a round that hammered into his chest, tiny dots of dark red stabbing into him as he crashed down in a breathless sack of former life. It was then that Revy caught sight of Dutch, strolling through the doorway with a cigarette between his lips, his Remington raised and firing again; his next shot struck at the shoulder of the last man standing, forcing his body to violently twist to the sound of his scream as he went down.

"Fuck!"

Revy made sure she cursed loud enough for Dutch to hear before she came out into the lobby. The final merc was rocking from side to side as waves of pain shook through his upper body. And then Revy emptied the entire mag of the M16 into his face, turning his head into the bursting fountain of blood and bone and brains, ripping it all to crimson shreds.

"You cool, Revy?" Dutch lowered his shotgun, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"That one was mine, dip-shit!"

"Oh, well I'm sorry," he casually replied. "Next time you can bail your own ass out."

"I was fine," she growled.

She then looked down at the tremendously gullible and now tremendously dead mercenaries, and she couldn't help but admire the scene that Dutch had written for them.

"Nice work though."

"Glad to see you're still breathing," Dutch said. "But I don't think any of us are getting any sleep tonight by the looks of things," he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out and handing it to Revy before giving her a light. "Anyway, we need to get back to the office right now."

"So what the fuck is going on?"

Revy didn't like what she saw for just a moment, that faint hint of concern inside Dutch's voice, just hiding beneath the first layer of calm exterior. She knew well enough that when Dutch was worried about something, then it was only smart to treat a situation carefully, or at least as carefully as she was capable of achieving, which wasn't much. But she wasn't a fool; a world like theirs called for alertness and sharp instincts, and she wasn't planning to treat this new predicament lightly.

"I didn't say anything back at the Yellowflag, but I had a little chat with Chang about our friends out at sea," Dutch explained. "He brought up some pretty interesting things over the phone."

"So," Revy took a short drag of her smoke before going on. "What did the big man have to say?"

"Let's get back to the office, and then we'll go over it. I already called Benny; he should be on his way right now. But we don't know where Rock is."

Revy turned from her observation of the newly made massacre, staring Dutch dead in the face. "What the fuck do you mean, you don't know?"

"We couldn't find him. After dropping you here we checked his room but he wasn't there. We should probably check in again on our way back."

There was no way for her to know at that moment whether or not her thoughts were in any way visible on her face. The things she felt mingled together so furiously that she wasn't sure where one began and the other ended. She thought it might have started with worry, but ended with boiling rage.

_Damn it to fuckin' hell, Rock_! _What the shit are doing, wandering off_?

"Hey, Two Hands," Dutch's voice brought her back to the world. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she murmured.

"I see," she saw his eyebrows raised above the cover of his shades for a moment. "Ok, we haven't got the time to stand around like this. Someone's gunning for us and now we– "

"So who is it?" she was beginning to lose patience. "Spit it the fuck out, Dutch."

"Once we get back to the office, then we'll talk about it. For right now lets get the hell out of here and see if Rock's finally decided to drag his ass home."

She wasn't happy about this; she wanted answers and her fuse was officially lit with a burning vengeance. But she relented with a reluctant nod. They then stepped over the piles of bodies and exited out into the darkness of the early hours.

Tossing the useless machinegun into the road, Revy concentrated on smoking as she and Dutch hastily walked in silence toward Rock's apartment. In all the hail of bullets her blood hadn't recovered yet from its sizzling flow, and something told her that the flow wouldn't recede for the rest of the night. However something else entered her mind, raising her tension to new heights, stretching out to her very limits and beyond.

_What was that shit-for-brains thinking_? _Where has he run off to at a time like this_?!

Rock's decision to wander about the streets of Roanapur during the dark half wasn't the best idea he could have had. But he wasn't stupid; as much as Revy would scold him she knew that he possessed more brain cells that any average criminal in the city. If only his emotions didn't get the better of his intelligence, she thought. The night had apparently done a real number on the both of them; that was pretty much obvious now, but if it got Rock killed then she – and she couldn't believe she was thinking this, but it was true – wouldn't be able to forgive herself for letting it happen.

_Fuck_! _Agghh_! _I fuckin' hate that prick for doing this to me_!

"Something on your mind, Revy?" Dutch broke her thoughts.

She woke from her daydreaming once again, viewing the calm but curious expression of her employer. She also noticed that people were now gathering near the blood-drenched apartment building, where her smouldering room stood in ruinous extinction. Chief Watsap would no doubt be knocking on their door soon enough, since it was Lagoon's money that rented the room upstairs. She ground her teeth again at the thought; talking to that glutinous badge was a promise of more pain in her head as well as her ass.

"What do you mean, Dutch?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Revy," he said. "I've let this shit slide so far, but I can't go on ignoring this for much longer. Sooner or later, this needs to be resolved, so I need the both of you to get it in gear."

It was here already, the talk she never wanted. "Dutch, for fuck sakes– "

"Now I know its not really any of my business, but here's what I don't get; you two are inseparable pretty much twenty four fucking seven; its my theory that Rock's probably the closest thing you've ever had to a friend, which is hell of a lot more than _I _ever prayed for, hell its practically divine intervention. So now what? Now you're pissing each other off, just like when Rock first joined; only now he's moping around, acting like some lovesick schoolboy, and you're either depressed or you're acting like Hannibal Lector with a stick up his ass."

"Kind of a fucked up exaggeration, don't ya think?" Revy paused, as a frown cut across her brow. "Wait a damn minute! Lovesick schoolboy? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You've gotta be kidding me, girl," Dutch shook his head. "You really haven't noticed anything? I gotta say the two of you are as bad as each other."

Revy was ready and willing to stop in her tracks and begin punching answers out of Dutch; so far no one and nothing had been capable of making any sense to her throughout the whole day. She wanted to know what was going on, and spilling a little blood to uncover these things was something she had no scruples over.

"Don't fuckin' play games, Dutch. What's Rock said to you?"

"He hasn't told me a damn thing. You don't need verbal confirmation Revy, not when you've got eyes in your head. I'm surprised you haven't picked up on it already, because it's been giving me a serious fuckin' headache. The way I figure it is we get back to the office, and I'll fill you all in on what Chang told me. And then maybe you and Rock can talk this shit out before someone ends up getting killed."

Talking to Rock had been the last thing she had wanted to do, considering the events of the night. The strings of her concentration, of her ability to function around the ex-businessman, had been severed one by one over the course of a few hours. But now this new piece of information had been mercilessly dropped onto her head. Things had just taken a strange turn.

"Ok, so why don't you tell me what you _think _is going the fuck on with him, Dutch?"

"Isn't it obvious, Revy?"

Revy flung her spent cigarette to the wind. "I wouldn't be asking if it was, god damn it!"

"Look Revy," Dutch said. "You ask him. I don't want to be anywhere near this thing with you two. Just make sure you wrap this up before our next job. I don't need my employees at each other's throats when we're supposed to be working. Doesn't do much for the reputation if we fuck things up in the middle of a job because of domestic bullshit."

She felt that she could have screamed at Dutch's lack of revelation, although understanding was finally beginning to take shape. If someone were to call her an idiot at that moment, then she would still place a round in their kneecaps for it, but she might also agree with them at the same time. Perhaps there had been signs that she should have picked up on her own. But then she supposed it was sometimes easier to see these things from the outside, something that she couldn't always do.

The violent tides had slowly shifted the course of her mood, and now curiosity had spike within her brain; it didn't entirely envelope her anger, but had pushed it aside just enough for her to think properly. She didn't have anything concrete just yet, but even if it killed her she was going to get some answers.

* * *

><p><em>Where is he<em>? _Where the fuck is he_? _The dumb ass better not be… I hope he hasn't…_

"Rock! That stupid arrogant little shit! When I get my hands on him– "

"Why don't you settle down for a second, Revy? Maybe he came back to the office?"

"Yeah, right," she said. "He's probably face down, drooling into some gutter whilst some fucker's going through his pockets!"

"Well in this town that's not the worst thing that could happen."

Rock hadn't been in his room when they stopped by, forcing Revy to curse for the rest of the walk. By the time they reached the office they saw that Benny must have already been in the building; the Plymouth was parked just outside. Revy guessed that the sight of no now bullet holes across the car's tired shell meant that Benny hadn't been met with trouble of his own.

_No, obviously those bastards just wanted to wreck_ my_ place_!

"So am I right in thinking those shit heads have got something to do with the retards out on the ocean?"

"That's my thought," Dutch said. "Someone sure seems to wants us out of way. Damned if I know why this time."

"Well they sure ain't gonna last long here. Those morons were a serious waste of guns; more like shooting _dead_ fish in a barrel."

"Easier actually. But the one thing they seem to have is numbers. Whoever's paying them just keeps on throwing them at us like they cost nothing. That could still be a problem down the line."

Revy huffed as they walked through the door, ascending the stairs toward the office. For some reason the staircase seemed so much longer to her; though she thought it was just a sign that her impatience was working overtime?

"Bring em' on," she said. "Those fuckers trashed my place; all my guns and ammo are screwed."

"We've got extra here, Revy."

"Not really the fuckin' point, is it?"

"Yeah, they sure are a pain in the ass," Dutch replied. "And it's only day one. But I doubt they've got much more to show us at this point."

Revy's eyes narrowed at his words. She couldn't help wondering: if it's really that simple, then what's with the look on his face? She had seen it on the way to Rock's, that faint strain behind the coolness of Dutch's well-maintained shield of stoicism. What did he have to tell them? She couldn't help but imagine. Over analysing a situation wasn't something she had ever been one for indulging in. She guessed that she had Rock to thank for that.

It would be no use to ask anymore, not until they were all together. _But where's Rock_? It was going to be a problem if they all needed to be present for what Dutch had to say.

"If he doesn't show up I'm gonna kick his balls out of his ass!"

"Hopefully he'll turn up sooner or later. If he isn't upstairs we'll just fill him in when he comes back. It's not like anyone knew this was going to happen."

"Yeah, I guess."

Revy began to feel some of her frustration erode with the passing seconds. She stepped ahead of Dutch as she shoved the door open, marching into the office, stepping in so hastily that she saw Benny shoot up from one of the couches, as if expecting an attack at any second. The surprise swiftly wore away from his stubble-covered face, and Revy rolled her eyes at the wave of relief that seemed to wash over him.

_Shit, someone would think _he'd _been attacked tonight_!

"Hey, you two," he said, with a faint wave of his hand.

"Hey Benny boy," Dutch replied. "Everything cool on the way over?"

"Not a peep out of anyone. It's too quiet out, Dutch"

"That doesn't sound good."

"Are you guys ok?" Benny asked. "What the hell happened?"

As Dutch was talking Revy's eyes moved towards the opposite couch near the window, and a frown harshly yanked her face in several different directions; her previously diffused temper now stood on a knife's edge once more.

"Eda," she heard Dutch say from behind her.

"Eda! What the fuck?"

The blonde – and currently highly amused looking – nun sat on the opposite couch, her legs crossed over each other as she nursed a glass of scotch. A comatose Rock was slumped next to her. Anger boiled inside Revy, nearly burning her chest as she saw how Rock's unconscious head was leaning into Eda's shoulder, using it like a makeshift pillow.

_Fuckin' bitch_!_ That fuckin' scank… the fuck_?!

"Hello boys and girls," Eda said with a smirk. "I thought I'd return this handsome sailor. I'll let you guys think of a way to pay me back."

"These two were already sitting there when I got here," Benny said.

"What the hell happened to him?" Dutch asked, moving further into the room.

"Its possible he may have drank a little too much," Eda said, glancing down at Rock's sleeping face with a smile. "He was sure in a bad way when I found him. You know anything about that, Two Hands?"

_What is she doing with Rock_? _What's _he_ doing with _her?

Revy didn't know what to think. Possibilities were laughing and skipping through her battered mind, taunting every inch of her as they slowly pranced their way along. Paranoia wasn't something she felt comfortable with, and it now beat its horrific drums into her as she saw Rock's head resting on Eda's shoulder.

"Fuck! And to think I actually thought he might be in trouble," she huffed more than said. "What a fuckin' jerk-off I am."

"Jerk-off?" Eda said. "I always wondered why they called you Two Hands. Guess that mystery's finally solved."

Without so much as a thought, Revy pulled one of her Cutlass from her holster, directing it toward the nun's head. "That's pretty funny coming from a nun who's as fuckin' celibate as a porn star's ass."

"Revy," Dutch warned.

Eda didn't do anything, or even speak in response to the threat. However Revy saw the smile drop from her face; the dangerous edge glowed through those ridiculous pink sunglasses of hers. If Revy fired her gun, Eda wouldn't hesitate to fire back.

_So what if she does_? _Let the bitch draw; I only need one shot. Get you're fuckin' shoulder away from his bead, you slut_!

The office, for at least ten solid seconds, was suffocated by the tense silence, a silence that was almost tangible as Revy's trigger finger itched like never before. All she wanted at that moment was for Eda to pull her Glock, and then fate would take care of the rest. She couldn't believe her own rage at the sight of Rock, resting unknowingly against Eda. She thought that the bitch might have even put him that way before their arrival on purpose. The urge to stamp out a life had not been stronger for in some time, and the reasons for this actually frightened her.

"Revy," Dutch spoke again. "This ain't the time for that. I don't want a fucking shootout in the middle of the goddamn office. We've got bigger things going on right now. And Eda, that had better not be my Ardbeg you're sipping down."

"Its Jim Beam, relax," Eda said, nudging Rock off of her and letting him slowly fall against the arm of the couch. "I was just playing, Two Hands. You don't need to get all worked up. I brought him back because he was too drunk to walk. Poor guy would've been sleeping in the middle of some road if I hadn't."

"Pretty fuckin' generous of you, Eda," Revy spat, and after another long pause finally lowered her gun. "So, I didn't see that bike of yours outside– "

"Parked round back," Eda said.

Revy couldn't help but come back to the big question that now screamed at her: what was Rock doing with Eda? They had never spent any time alone before, not to Revy's knowledge. Rock usually spent most of his waking hours with _her_. So where did this sudden get together come from, she wondered? What could have possibly dragged them both together? She knew that Rock had already been fairly alcoholised before doing his tantrum walkout from the Yellowflag. But how did Eda fit in? Revy couldn't shake the feeling that the nun was up to something, and she didn't believe it had anything to do with her pathetic attempts at seduction.

Revy holstered her Cutlass, moving over to the other couch and taking a seat next to Benny; she lifted her legs, planting both feet onto the small centre table, her eyes never leaving Eda.

"So what happened with you guys?" Eda asked. "You look like you've had yourselves a little ruckus tonight."

"You catch on quick, bitch."

"Eda," Dutch cut in, his patience audibly wavering. "You haven't by any chance happened to hear of a mercenary group that goes by the name of Crimson Spear, have you?"

Eda frowned. " …Afraid not. So what's up with them?"

"A conversation I had earlier on, pointed me to them being responsible for an attack we suffered on our way back from a job. They sent out a five boat assault, and they weren't shy with their bullets either."

Within the next minute everyone was seated, beers in front of them and smokes in hand. Revy was still pissed off about how she found Rock, but slowly she was beginning to open her ears to what Dutch had said so far.

"They sound like something out of a bad movie, Dutch," Revy said, blowing out smoke. "So what else did Chang say? Did he also mention the fact that these merc bitches can't shoot for shit?"

"That's what bothered him. Apparently this little group are newborns; and the thing is – and this got him all confused too – is that no one knows a thing about them, and I mean nothing, save the name. It's like these guys just appeared out of a puff of smoke. But Chang said the source was reliable, so I've got no cause to make judgments yet."

Revy still didn't get it. "How in the hell are they even getting work? It's like they're being paid to just go out and die. These fuckers have got zero skill, zero patience; their sloppy as hell, and their attacks are a joke. It's like someone just picked up random assholes off the street and put guns in their hands."

Dutch nodded. "The guys who trashed your room sure as hell fit that profile. They seem pretty determined though; shame determination is all these idiots have."

"So two attacks, and they haven't even made a dent yet," Benny said.

"Come back to the part where they fucked up my room!" Revy barked in an exhalation of smoke. "I'd say that's a pretty big fuckin' dent, Benny."

Benny raised his hands in defence. "I'm just sayin' Revy; seems to me that we're not dealing with typical mercs. Usually they don't come in droves like this. They seem like a pretty mindless bunch if you ask me."

"Well its never happened like this before," Dutch said.

Revy started to grind her teeth again. "So what are we gonna do about this shit?"

"I suppose the obvious action is to find out who the hell we've had recent brushes with," Benny suggested.

"Like I said earlier," Dutch said. "It might not be a long list."

"But still, its something to go on."

"I don't suppose you guys have considered laying low for a day or two?" Eda spoke, pausing long enough to empty her glass. "I mean if these guys think you're gone at least they'll stop causing trouble in this town, right?"

"They're only after us, as far as we know," Dutch replied. "So all they're gonna do is follow us out of this damn city. We'd just have em' at our backs the entire time."

"And its not like they've rubbed anyone else the wrong way," Revy said, wondering just what Eda was getting at. "Balalaika and Chang aren't gonna waist their energy on this."

"Well if you think you can handle it then I guess that's up to you," Eda sighed. "But if you stayed out the way for a little while then things might just simmer down. Don't tell me you haven't noticed the vibe wafting through the city these past couple of days?"

Revy didn't know if the others had noticed the differences, but she sure as hell had; everything was just too silent during the hours after sunset. And even in the day, there was a strange unease in the air. But even so, she had no intention of running away.

"Fuck laying low," Revy said. "They're not gonna last the week in this city anyway. That's the best idea you've got, Eda? If it is, then thanks; the door's that way."

Everyone looked toward Rock, as a faint groan passed out of him. Revy watched as his eyes slowly began to open, the first thing they seemed to fall upon was her, and an odd fear filled her up in that moment as she looked back.

No one had a chance to speak to him, distracted by the ball of orange fire that suddenly appeared outside, blazing in the distance. Revy sprung from her seat, her beer and cigarette flying through the air as she saw the flames rise up within the window's wide view of the city. Even Rock seemed to stagger painfully to his feet, locked in freakish surprise as everyone gathered towards the window, all transfixed with the sight of the explosion that shined in the night.

"Holy fuck!" Revy gasped.

Benny's voice shook as he spoke. "Isn't that– "

"Hotel Moscow's headquarters," Dutch said. "Yeah."

"Jesus Christ!" Eda exclaimed.

" …S-shit!" Rock slurred.

Revy felt a cold iron grip wrap itself around her heart at the sight, as bursts of flame tore at the building. No real detail could be seen from such a distance, but anyone with a set of working eyes would know that it was bad. Whatever was really going on, she knew that things had just gotten so much worse.

The long wait of the walking dead was finally over. Hell had come to Roanapur at last.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you all liked this chapter, and hopefully you didn't find it to be too long. Thanks for reading so far, and I'll have another chapter written and posted as soon as I can. Bye for now.<em>


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